


Borders

by katspaw



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:21:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8191690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katspaw/pseuds/katspaw
Summary: Jongdae agrees to marry the heir of the rival kingdom in order to achieve peace among their people, but he isn’t prepared for the web of political intrigue he’s walking into.[Chenpionships 2k16!]





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to homiten, who prompted this! Arranged marriage is one of my favorite tropes and I’ve always wanted to write it, I’d just never gotten around to it before, so thank you for the wonderful opportunity. Actually, I've always struggled reading M/M arranged marriage fics and I wanted to come up with a way it could be plausible... I hope I was successful!
> 
> Just a note I feel like I should mention, I divided the members into the two kingdoms by nationality but I want to point out they are not meant in any way to represent real life China or South Korea. I also want to extend a million thanks to the Chenpionships mods, who were INCREDIBLY patient with me during my first fest experience. Lastly, and most of all, thank you to my dear friend Violet, who beta read this for me at the eleventh hour and introduced me to EXO in the first place. You’re the true MVP.

The sunlight filtered weakly through the cool air of autumn, small clouds rising from the nose of Jongdae's horse as he guided it up the hill towards the palace. He'd never been much of an equestrian, and the feeling of the animal's hooves kicking up clots of dirt as he led the way home made him feel no more secure than had the jostle of the saddle on their way out of the stable that morning. Beside him, Baekhyun's tiny mare surged up to overtake him, dancing just ahead of Jongdae's mount and leading the way to the royal stables.

 

They'd had a hard day of riding, checking in on some of the more distant checkpoints at the north of the capital. It was partly for morale - Jongdae's reputation and his status as a prince of the realm made him popular among the soldiers - and partly for a routine assessment of the kingdom's defenses. For the last two hundred years, longer than Jongdae or his parents or his parents' parents had been around, the world outside their borders had been one of danger and violence.

Jongdae let himself relax into the saddle, watching Baekhyun's narrow shoulders swaying with the motion of his horse, his seat as natural as breathing. From behind him, Chanyeol rode up, his horse slowing to an easy lope beside Jongdae's mount. His right arm, scarred and useless, rested atop the reins. "Good riding today, Your Highness," Chanyeol boomed, beaming. The formality was for the benefit of the stable hands coming forward to help them dismount, undoubtedly, but Jongdae still shot him an amused look.

 

"I'm only 'Your Highness' when we're around other people, Chanyeol? And here I thought I was special to you," Jongdae teased once they had handed the reins off to the stablehands and started the trek back to the side entrance of the palace.

 

Baekhyun barked out a laugh, starting to pull his riding boots off the minute they passed through the threshold. Servants hovered around, ready to retrieve his discarded clothes and replace them. "No, you're only 'Your Highness' when you're on top of your horse, otherwise there's nothing high about you." He threw Jongdae a cheeky grin, shaking on a light overshirt.

 

"You're as short as me," Jongdae shot back, changing out his own riding clothes for a heavier set of robes. He was still uncomfortably sweaty underneath, and he grimaced at the feeling of the collar sticking lightly to his skin.

 

"Yeah, you don't have room to talk," Chanyeol agreed, allowing the maids to help lift his shirt over his head. The sight of him bent over halfway so that they could reach was comical, just the top of his red head poking out from the neck hole. "What pet name should I use for you normally, then? Captain? Baby?" He stuck his head out and pursed his lips at Jongdae, making the maid who was struggling to sort his overlong limbs out blush and drop the sleeve she was holding. Jongdae snorted.

 

A courier arrived as they were putting on slippers, looking relieved to find Jongdae and his companions inside the castle walls. "Their Majesties request your presence in the statesroom, milord." She cast an apologetic look at Baekhyun and Chanyeol when no further invitation was forthcoming.

 

Jongdae sighed a little. "All right then. I'll see you two later," he added back at his friends, waving to them as he followed the courier out into the hallway. He grimaced as he realized he'd forgotten to change out his boots for clean shoes before he left. They weren't overly muddy, but undoubtedly his father would have something to say about it. Jongdae reflected glumly that at least he was showing up to an audience with his parents looking rumpled because he'd been doing work, not out for a pleasure ride with his friends. It wasn't likely to help much.

 

It was not his father that had something to say about his boots, as it turned out. He was surprised to see all three of his brothers already seated across from his parents at the circular table when he arrived at the statesroom. By the state of the full tea set laid out in front of them, they'd been waiting for a bit already. Jongdae winced and hurried forward.

 

He'd taken no more than two steps into the room when Joonmyun's eyes narrowed. "This carpet is a century old, Jongdae," he admonished. Jongdae cursed his brother's sharp eyes and sense of duty, not for the first time.

 

"A century of dirt's already in it, then," he said lightly, taking a seat next to Jongin, who passed him a cup and a small cake. "Thanks," he said, bumping his shoulder lightly against Jongin's. His brother smiled placidly at him.

 

Their father cleared his throat, placing his own cup on the table. Instantly everyone's attention was on him. "We received a missive this morning," he began, "from the leaders of the Haiyang kingdom, our enemies to the north." The reminder was unnecessary. Every man, woman, and child in the mountain country, as they called themselves, knew not to trust anyone from the north. The conflict had been going on since before Jongdae's time, certainly, and before his parents' or grandparents' time, too. Ostensibly it was over a disputed section of land between the two kingdoms. Jongdae's people believed it was god-touched, and as such should only be inhabited by people who would show it the due deference. The Haiyang kingdom undoubtedly had its own reasons for wanting the land, but if there was anything behind it besides a greed for more power and resources, Jongdae had never heard of it.

 

"What did they say?" Minseok broke the silence, his even voice bringing Jongdae back to the present. "Do they have hostages?"

 

Their father shook his head. "They requested a meeting to discuss a peace treaty. Or a cease fire, at minimum." He looked troubled.

 

He wasn't the only one. "A peace treaty?" Minseok repeated, baffled. "Just out of nowhere?" He and Joonmyun exchanged a look.

 

"Did they make any demands or cite a reason for the request, father?" Joonmyun asked.

 

"They did not. However, I believe the message is genuine. It was sent by a royal courier and I recognize the queen's signature." He surveyed his children for a long moment. "What advice would you give me as to how I should handle this situation?" He asked, and settled back into his chair.

 

Jongdae remained silent. It was an unspoken rule among them that when father quizzed them like this Minseok, as the future king, was to answer first, and he liked to consider a situation carefully before he spoke. After a pause, Minseok lifted his head from his contemplation of his teacup. "I wouldn't trust them," he started. "Even if the letter is genuine, there's been no incident that would have motivated peace talks and no obvious advantage to them being the first to offer arbitration. There might be some kind of political struggle within their kingdom we don't know about, and maybe one of the players thinks involving us will help their side."

 

Their father nodded. "So what do you think I should do? Refuse their offer?"

 

Minseok hesitated. "No, I wouldn't refuse them. I think peace would be ideal, if they do really want to negotiate for it. I would invite them here, though. If there is something behind this, better to have their diplomats on our soil than to send our people to them. Since they made the offer, they can't refuse without looking suspicious."

 

Minseok's shoulders relaxed as their father nodded again. "I agree," he said approvingly. "And that's what we'll do. Who knows, this war may see its end in my lifetime after all. I never dreamed of it."

 

They settled into discussing plans for when the talks might take place and what they would be willing to offer in return for peace. It was a cautiously optimistic atmosphere. Jongdae wasn't sure things would go so smoothly in the actual talks - but he allowed himself to hope nonetheless. Maybe their longtime enemies were as tired of war and loss as they were after all.

 

 ---

 

When the talks came to a close the first day, Jongdae was expecting either a party to celebrate the immediate withdrawal of all their troops or for battle to break out in the palace halls. What he got instead was a solemn procession of his mother and father and the Haiyang kingdom's diplomats passing out from the conference room, expressions unreadable. Jongdae hastened to bow as they pass, his brothers following suit, Joonmyun's back straight and perfect, Jongin hurried but still elegant. Once the rulers exited into the hallway, a stream of courtiers emerged from the doors, led by Minseok. He looked exhausted, the skin of his eyes puffy and his hair falling out of its styling to splay across his forehead.

 

"How did it go?" Jongin asked in a hushed voice, looking at Minseok like he was afraid raising his voice any higher would knock him over. 

 

Minseok laughed. "Well, we're done with the introductions and we've all agreed that war is a waste of life and resources."

 

"That's all?" Jongin asked, raising his eyebrows. He was used to military efficiency, Jongdae reflected. 

 

"Well, of course it won't be all resolved at once," Joonmyun cut in, although he too looked a little let down after all the excitement. 

 

Minseok started walking, motioning them to follow. "I have a good feeling," he confided. "They're supposed to be here for a week at least, so we'll wait and see how it goes. I don't want to jinx it."

 

Minseok's reassurance went a long way towards assuaging their impatience that week. Their parents remained tight lipped on the proceedings, and even Minseok would only say things like "it went well" or "interesting discussion today", but would refuse to give details when pressed. "Mother and Father will tell you when there's a decision," he said sternly after the third time Jongdae had tried to bribe him with food. 

 

 

The talks, predictably, ran over the allotted week, and then ran over the next as well. They were coming towards the end of a third when some conclusion seemed to have been reached. Their parents made the announcement the day after the foreign dignitaries had departed, to a room of the more senior members of court.

 

"After much discussion with the representatives of the Haiyang kingdom, we have at last reached a conclusion," his father boomed, his strong voice commanding attention. The murmurs of the nobles gathered died down. "We have agreed that there will be peace between our nations, starting immediately. This peace," he held up a hand as the volume in the room rose significantly, "this peace will be cemented by the union of our two royal houses. One of our sons will be sent to the Haiyang kingdom to marry their heir."

 

Jongdae whipped his head around to look at Minseok, shocked. He wasn't the only one troubled. Next to him, Jongin looked stricken. Minseok watched them out of the corner of his eye, opening his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by their father continuing with the announcement.

 

"In recognition that our house has been blessed by the gods with four heirs, and that our eldest son is preparing to take the throne, our neighbors have requested our third son, Jongdae."

 

There was a stunned silence greeting his father's words. Now everyone's eyes were on him. Jongdae stifled the noise of shock that threatened to pry itself out of his throat. He caught Joonmyun's eye and they stared at each other, having a brief but intense silent exchange that told him Joonmyun had had no idea this was coming either, or why, as the second in line, he hadn't been chosen instead.

 

Jongdae forced himself to look back at his father, who was regarding him with a serious but not unkind expression. "We have faith that this agreement is in the best interests of all our people, and that our neighbors will honor their word and care for our son as though he were one of their own." There were already whispers flying wildly around the room. Jongdae swallowed heavily, trying to keep his expression as neutral as possible. Married. Married and sent away to the capital city of their most hated and feared enemies.

 

"This is a show of faith on our part," Jongdae's mother spoke up, her head high and sounding perfectly composed. "If both sides maintain the peace, in a few years we may open trade with the Haiyang kingdom, which would greatly benefit our people. For now all citizens living in the border zone will be able to travel and trade freely between both of our kingdoms, until such a time as a more permanent solution can be arranged."

 

Jongdae was only half listening to his mother's speech, so he was taken off guard when she addressed him directly. "Son."

 

He quickly straightened his back, bowing deeply to her and trying to compose himself enough to speak. Everything seemed like it was happening so fast. "Your majesty."

 

"You will leave for the capital at the start of the new month. Our forces will accompany you to the border and no further. From there, you will travel with an escort to the palace."

 

Jongdae's mind raced. "Your majesty, am I meant to pass into our rival kingdom entirely unaccompanied? It seems reasonable that I should have a manservant-- or a guard--"

 

The queen inclined her head ever so slightly, her expression unchanged. "Son, let us ask you: does not sending you with a guard suggest we do not trust our neighbors? Does it not suggest a lack of faith in our treaty?"

 

'But we don't!' Jongdae wanted to scream. 'We don't trust them and you were the ones that taught me not to!' He tamped the impulse down, swallowing the words caught in his throat with an effort. "I understand, your majesty."

 

"There is another matter that may interest you, however," the queen continued calmly. "You may recall that our neighbors speak a different language than we."

 

He recalled, all right. Something to become an additional source of anxiety, wondering how he would communicate in the foreign court.

 

"Young lord Oh Sehun has been making a study of this language. We are told by his family that he is quite proficient. We believe his abilities as a translator would serve you better than would a manservant, therefore we grant him to you as a companion."

 

Jongdae's heart sank. He liked Sehun - he was almost as much of a little brother to Jongdae as Jongin - but as far as he knew Sehun had never so much as picked up a sword. Somehow Jongdae felt as though Sehun's ability to plead for their lives in the appropriate tongue wouldn't be much help against an assassin's blade. Still, it was better than going alone. He inclined his head graciously. "Thank you."

 

"There is one more matter," his mother continued after a pause, an odd expression on her face. "Your fiancé." 

 

If Jongdae didn't know his own mother as well as he did, he never would have been able to tell that she was hesitating. He nodded at her, bracing himself for whatever he was about to hear. 

 

"The heir of the Haiyang kingdom was chosen according to their customs. His name is Luhan." She fixed her eyes on Jongdae's. "We are certain you will find a way to thrive."

 

This time, no amount of imperious looks from his father could possibly contain the explosion of whispering that ripped through the room. 

 

  
\---

 

 

Baekhyun and Chanyeol took the news about as well as he'd expected. 

 

"They want WANT?" Chanyeol hissed under his breath. Since Chanyeol had never really learned the concept of an 'indoor voice', he was unfortunately still clearly audible to everyone in the room. Jongdae kicked him discreetly under the table. 

 

"Ow! So they want you to marry the prince?" He was only marginally quieter this time. 

 

"Lord Park," Minseok's voice cut across the long dining table. "Are you enjoying the meal?"

 

The reprimand was clear. Chanyeol colored. "It's delicious, Your Highness," he boomed, looking sheepish. 

 

"Good," said Minseok, turning back to his conversation. Jongdae didn't miss how exhausted he still looked, despite his obvious efforts to pay attention to the lady he was chatting with. It had been a difficult few weeks for all of them, but especially for Minseok, who had had to attend every meeting but had no chance to actually take part in any of the discussions. And then on top of that were events like this, obligatory events for the younger members of court to keep in touch with one another, which should have been fun but, by the nature of the people involved, was instead drawn out and stiff. Jongdae sighed.

 

Chanyeol didn't seem ready to give up, despite the earlier warning. He raised his eyebrows at Jongdae significantly. 

 

"You know, Chanyeol, you're right," said Jongdae sweetly. "The salmon IS delicious." 

 

Chanyeol made a frustrated noise, but before he could complain, Baekhyun shuffled his chair closer. "Those of us that can speak like normal human beings and not foghorns also want to know," he said. "What's the deal, Jongdae?"

 

Jongdae cast a quick glance around, but no one seemed to be paying them particular attention. "Yeah," he whispered. "They want me to go and marry their prince." He shrugged helplessly. It still seemed like some elaborate joke, the kind of prank he would have relished playing on his friends if it weren't so chillingly real. 

 

Baekhyun stared. "Prince," he repeated, keeping his voice low. "Not princess?"

 

"Prince," Jongdae confirmed. "I don't really understand either, but apparently their line of succession is done differently, so it won't matter that we can't have an heir." 

 

A servant carefully reached around Jongdae to replace his plate with one bearing a new assortment of dishes. He took the opportunity to down half his wine. 

 

Baekhyun and Chanyeol were exchanging a glance when he turned back. "Why you? You're not the heir," Baekhyun asked, at the same time Chanyeol said, "Is it fine that he's a prince?"

 

"I don't know why he picked me either," he admitted, and paused, choosing his next words carefully. "And I guess it doesn't matter, does it? It's just to end the war." Truthfully, he'd spent more time considering the situation than he cared to admit, but really the gender of his suitor seemed like a small issue compared to everything else he'd heard about the people of Haiyang kingdom. 

 

Chanyeol and Baekhyun looked sympathetic, now. "So you're not going to try and get out of it?" Baekhyun asked. 

 

Across the table, Joonmyun was slipping pieces of his dessert onto Jongin's and Sehun's plates and the wait staff were pretending not to notice. Jongdae watched them, feeling far away. "No," he said finally. "The war's gone on too long already. I don't mind it if it saves our people's lives."

 

Baekhyun gave him a long look before he seemed to come to some conclusion. "Well," he said lightly, leaning around Chanyeol to clap Jongdae on the shoulder. "We're behind you no matter what." Chanyeol nodded firmly.

 

"Lord Byun! Please restrain yourself from shaking the prince at the table."

 

Jongdae had to grab a forkful of cake quickly to hide his smile.

 

\---

 

 

"Baekhyun, hurry up!" Chanyeol called for the fifth time, banging on the door to his chambers.

 

"Just give me a second, I told you I'm doing my hair!" he yelled back, also for the fifth time. Kyungsoo, leaning against the wall next to Jongdae, rolled his eyes.

 

"The girl at the woodcarving stand is going to give you a discount no matter how your hair looks!" Jongdae called through the door. There was a pause in which he imagined Baekhyun was flipping him off.

 

"Don't encourage him flirting, you know he's engaged," Kyungsoo said disapprovingly.

 

"Engagement isn't a death sentence," Jongdae retorted, although that was a little bit how he was feeling about his own.

 

"That's right," said Baekhyun, suddenly emerging from his door. "It's more like a creative challenge. How do I look?"

 

"Finally," Chanyeol grumbled. "It looks good. Now come on, I'm really hungry."

 

"It looks the same as always," Kyungsoo deadpanned, moving away from the wall to fall into step beside Chanyeol as the group started to make their way down the hallway.

 

"It does not!" Baekhyun cried indignantly. "Look, I twisted my bangs here so they'd fall at an angle-- stop laughing, Jongdae-- it's becoming a very popular look," he finished loftily.

 

"Yeah, I'll be sure to try that on my new husband," Jongdae said wryly, stepping out the front gates as a group of guards fell into step behind their group. "I bet he'll be so charmed he'll forget to poison me."

 

"It could work to your advantage, you never know," said Baekhyun, leading them down the hill to the sea of lights and people that filled the streets of the capital. "Their royalty is supposed to have the strongest magic, right? Maybe he's some powerful sorcerer that needs your love to fuel his spells." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Or it's the opposite and he's looking for fresh virgin blood to curse us all with."

 

Jongdae started laughing. "In that case, we should send him Chanyeol instead."

 

"No way, sorry. It's got to be Kyungsoo," Chanyeol preened, showing off the muscles in his good arm.

 

Kyungsoo snorted. "You know celibacy is not the same thing as virginity, right Chanyeol?"

 

"Oooh!" Baekhyun howled. "I want to hear the story there!"

 

They made their way down into the crowd, the contingent of guards slipping into the throngs of people milling between the brightly colored stand set up in the streets. Between Jongdae's jacket in the royal colors and Kyungsoo's grey initiate robes, they gathered some looks and whispers from the townspeople. Baekhyun was in his element.

 

"Where should we go first? Food or shopping?" He asked, spinning around dramatically and walking backwards to talk to them.

 

"I don't even remember half the stands," Kyungsoo admitted. "Maybe shopping first?"

 

"That's because we haven't come here in ages," Chanyeol said as they made their way over the line of stalls advertising charms for luck and fortune. "I don't even remember the last time we all came together."

 

"It happens at the end of every month," Kyungsoo pointed out, pausing to examine a delicately wrought paperweight.

 

"Yeah, and you're too busy every month!" Chanyeol pouted. He looked ridiculous, but it was effective. Kyungsoo patted his arm apologetically.

 

"Jongdae is busy too, it's not just me."

 

It was true. He hadn't had free time to go out like this in a while. It was a little easier to see Chanyeol and Baekhyun on a regular basis, since they were a part of court, but getting together with Kyungsoo had become more complicated after he left the palace for the main temple in the city.

 

"Oh!" Baekhyun said suddenly from up ahead. "This is it!" He turned back towards them, gesturing frantically at his bangs. "Do I still look good?"

 

"Again, you look the same as you always do," said Kyungsoo, unimpressed.

 

"Great," Baekhyun whirled back around and sauntered up to a booth where several wooden charms and carved decorations were laid out. The pretty salesgirl's face brightened at the sight of him.

 

"Lord Byun!" She exclaimed, her eyes twinkling. "You're back!"

 

"Please," Baekhyun said, holding up a hand. "It's just Baekhyun for you, miss. I'd hate for there to be a barrier of formality between us." He flashed a charming smile. 

 

In unison Jongdae and Chanyeol groaned, trading grossed out faces. Baekhyun stuck his tongue out at them, putting on a show of looking offended. The salesgirl started laughing, covering her mouth delicately with her hand. 

 

While Baekhyun continued to chat up the salesgirl, the rest of them looked over her wares. Jongdae examined a tiny carved dog that he thought Jongin might like, smiling. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo were bickering good naturedly over what to get. 

 

"I should get you a fire charm, maybe your patron will stop you from getting more burnt than you already are."

 

"Only if it's going to protect me from spicy food too. Can it do that?"

 

"I don't think anyone can help you if your definition of spicy food is 'might have touched a pepper once', Chanyeol," Jongdae teased.

 

 "Miss," Kyungsoo asked, interrupting both Baekhyun's attempt at flirting and Chanyeol's protests. "Have these been blessed already?" He gestured at the rows of wooden charms in varying sizes laid out on the tablecloth, each in the symbol of different deities.

 

 The salesgirl shook her head. "They're usually busy at the temple," she said apologetically.

 

"May I?" Kyungsoo asked, holding out a hand over the charms.

 

"Oh! Yes, of course. Thank you." She looked at Baekhyun, lowering her voice as Kyungsoo started to pray over the charms. "I didn't know you were friends with a priest, my lord. It's very kind of kind of him to do that."

 

It wasn't the only time Kyungsoo had to bless something that night. After Jongdae had bought his gift for Jongin and they'd torn Baekhyun away from the shop owner, there were still plenty of stands to look through. A few people passing by asked Kyungsoo for blessings of protection or healing. Jongdae was just as popular, of course, but in another way.

 

"Milord, please, try my roasted corn! Free for you, and the best in the market!" One of the vendors called out to Jongdae as they waited for Kyungsoo to bless a little girl who had broken her arm. "Your Highness, are you getting enough to eat?" asked the vendor next to him, an old woman who peered at Jongdae over the baskets piled atop her table. "Come, my apples are fresh from the countryside. Have as many as you'd like, sire.”

 

"Thank you," Jongdae said, waving politely at them. "But I'm still looking around at the shops. Here," he pulled out a few gold pieces and handed them to each of the sellers calling out to him. "Business is good this time of year, but you should have something saved up for winter."

 

"We can't go out with the two of you anymore," Baekhyun informed them when they'd both caught up to the group. "You're being too nice to everyone and it's slowing us down; we'll never get through all the booths. And Chanyeol is as bad as you are, we've just been lucky so far no one's asked him to carry anything or reach something high up or we'd be further behind." He shook his head dramatically.

 

"First you complain about us not going to the market with you, now you don't want us to come," Kyungsoo teased. "Make up your mind."

 

Baekhyun heaved a theatrical sigh. "I suppose I'll keep you. Jongdae for the free food, and you for your cheery personality."

 

"Speaking of food," Chanyeol broke in, and all conversation quickly devolved into what street food they most wanted to stuff themselves with.

 

Following Chanyeol's request of 'something with meat', they found themselves hovering in front of the last food stand on the block, where the workers were piling skewers full of pieces of various meats. While Baekhyun and Chanyeol squabbled over what kinds of skewers to buy, Kyungsoo pulled Jongdae to the side and pressed something into his hands. 

 

"It's a gift for you, before you leave," he said quietly, fixing Jongdae with one of his serious, wide-eyed looks. 

 

Jongdae looked down. In his hands was a small, curved pendant on a silver chain, similar to the ones at the booth they'd passed. "Did you get this for me from Baekhyun's friend earlier?" He asked, turning the pendant around. The symbol was the mark of Jongdae's patron, the god of storms. 

 

Kyungsoo shook his head. "I had it with me," he confessed. "I asked the head priest to dedicate it for you, and I added some blessings to it myself. To keep you safe while you're away." 

 

Jongdae swallowed down the sudden lump in his throat. Baekhyun and Chanyeol would be riding with him the next day to the border before they said goodbye, but Kyungsoo's duties kept him at the temple. In all likelihood he and Kyungsoo would never see one another again.

 

"Thanks," he said, hating how his voice wavered. Kyungsoo watched him blinking rapidly, his expression soft.

 

"Here," he said, taking the chain and draping it over Jongdae's neck, then pulling him into a tight hug. Jongdae wrapped his arms around Kyungsoo's waist and buried his face in Kyungsoo's shoulder, trying to get a hold of himself.

 

"Are we hugging Jongdae now?” He heard Baekhyun ask from somewhere behind him, and then suddenly Baekhyun was pressed up against his back, his arms snaking around Jongdae. Chanyeol’s good arm settled around both Kyungsoo and Jongdae easily, the skewers he was holding carefully tilted so they didn’t get in Kyungsoo’s hair.

 

“Why did you make me carry so many?” Chanyeol complained. “I can’t hug Jongdae and hold these, I only have one hand that works!” Jongdae’s shoulders shook with what might been laughter or a sob, he wasn’t sure.

 

“Okay, I didn’t ask for you two to get involved,” said Kyungsoo after a pause. “Let go, I’m getting hot.”

 

“You love us,” Baekhyun quipped easily, but Jongdae was released. “Okay, Chanyeol, pass me my skewer, I’m starving. We got you guys beef, is that fine?”

 

“You only got one for us but there’s two for each of you?”

 

“Well, we can get more, let’s just start with this—“

 

Jongdae quickly wiped at his eyes while Chanyeol distributed the skewers. He was going to miss them, but at least he had something to keep with him that would remind him of his friends.

 

“Hey, one of those is for me, right? Chanyeol!”

 

 

\---

 

 

The tone was somber the next morning. The foreign minister had instructed them to pack lightly, since Jongdae would not be allowed to keep any clothes or belongings he had brought with him from the mountain kingdom. It wasn’t clear if this was for appearances’ sake or if they were worried he would try to smuggle in a weapon or poison. Jongdae hadn’t bothered to argue. There wasn’t anything to which he had an attachment so strong he would fight over it. Leaving his family behind was another matter.

 

The formal send off from his parents felt too short. Jongdae’s mother hugged him briefly; his father braced a hand on his shoulder. ‘Hold me longer’ Jongdae wanted to say. ‘We might never see each other again.’

 

Joonmyun cried. He could barely get out the words ‘be safe’ as he patted Jongdae’s back. “I’ll be okay,” Jongdae whispered soothingly, and was met with a fresh round of tears. Jongin stepped forward to gently peel Joonmyun off him. He didn’t look much better. His face was set in a troubled frown, and he kept starting to say something and then stopping himself.

 

“I’ll be okay,” Jongdae repeated, after Jongin’s fifth attempt to tell him goodbye. “Really. They aren’t going to stab me in the back the second I cross the border. They’ll do it at night while I’m sleeping!” He laughed, but Jongin’s frown only deepened. Joonmyun shut his eyes tightly. “Okay, really,” Jongdae hurried to say, feeling a little desperate now. “I promise I’ll write you as soon I get there. Don’t worry.”

 

Minseok stepped forward after the two of them had squeezed his arm comfortingly (Jongin) and promised to arrange a visit (Joonmyun – at least that was probably what he’d said, Jongdae couldn’t be totally sure). He looked as stressed and unhappy as Jongdae had ever seen him, and he felt guilty momentarily for being the source of Minseok’s distress. He normally covered up what he was feeling so well, it was strange to see him openly upset. He pulled Jongdae into a one armed hug, squeezing his shoulders tightly. Jongdae leaned into him, wishing miserably that Minseok could at least come with him to the border. “Be careful,” Minseok whispered to him. “If you think you’re in danger, write to me. We’ll come get you. I don’t care what mother and father say about it.” Before Jongdae could respond he’d pulled away. They exchanged a look. Jongdae put on a smile and mouthed ‘got it’. Minseok’s face relaxed a fraction.

 

“Well,” said Jongdae’s father eventually. “You should get on the road before it gets too late.”

 

Chanyeol and Baekhyun stepped forward, Sehun trailing behind them. “We’ve got the horses ready, Your Highness,” Baekhyun said politely, gesturing to the front gates. Jongdae took one last look at his family, trying to capture the memory of their faces. Minseok smiled at him and made a shooing motion, just like many a palace maid had done to them in their childhood. He couldn’t help it, he started laughing, and soon his brothers joined in. Even Joonmyun was smiling as he wiped at the corner of his eye.

 

“I’ll write you,” Jongdae promised. “Don’t let Joonmyun cry too much, he’ll scare the servants.” Ignoring the weak protest from behind him, he turned and followed his friends out of the palace, to the contingent of guards waiting at the gates with their horses loaded up with supplies. It was at least a week’s ride to the border. Jongdae wished that they had a faster method of transport – he didn’t really need to show up at a foreign court smelling like two weeks’ worth of travel – but horses it was. Baekhyun held the reins for him while he swung up onto the animal’s back and settled into the saddle.

 

“Let’s get going,” said Chanyeol when everyone had mounted. Sehun was looking down at his enormous gelding uncertainly, and Jongdae sent a quick prayer to whichever god was listening that he didn’t get motion sick on the road.

 

The guards fanned out around them, forming a protective circle. Jongdae nudged his horse’s sides firmly, and off they went, heading towards a border Jongdae had only ever seen on a map and a kingdom he knew next to nothing about.

 

 

\---

 

 

Time seemed to pass very slowly on the road. They spent a lot of time trading stories and reminiscing on past adventures. Sehun, whom Jongdae had previously spoken to very little, proved to be good company. Despite his haughty face, he was surprisingly sweet and his dry sense of humor went very well with Jongdae’s own. He was also evidently a little sheltered; he demanded to hear their more ridiculous stories retold several times, as though he couldn’t believe they had really happened. Chanyeol had to explain three times about how his arm had been injured when he'd been in the army before Sehun seemed satisfied with all the details.

 

“It was really a dragon?” He’d asked more than once. “Like, a flying dragon with scales?”

 

“Bronze scales and a tail and sharp teeth. Really sharp teeth.” Chanyeol confirmed. “And fire breath.” He wiggled his shoulder and his burnt arm flapped on the saddle. “Burned my sword right onto my hand, and then the rest of my arm with it.”

 

“Wow,” Sehun breathed. “I didn’t think dragons were real.”

 

“Neither did I!” Chanyeol laughed. “I’ve only ever seen the one, though. It must belong to the Haiyang army. Maybe they bribe it to fight for them.”

 

Sehun cast a quick glance around. “Do you think it lives around here?” He asked. They were passing through a forest, their horses picking their way around the rocks on the path as they carefully made their way downhill.

 

“I doubt it,” Baekhyun spoke up from ahead. “Someone would have reported it if they’d seen a dragon flying around.”

 

“Right,” said Sehun, adopting a blasé tone. “Of course they would have.” He didn’t sound totally convinced, despite the affected boredom.

 

“Don’t worry, Sehun,” Jongdae snorted. “If the dragon comes, just start running. It probably wants to finish crisping up its meal before it eats anyway.”

 

“Hey!” said Chanyeol, but he was laughing.

 

The rest of the trip passed uneventfully. Before Jongdae had realized it, they’d neared the last town before the border zone. One of the guards sent ahead a messenger bird to say they were coming the next day, and the rest of the group gathered in the only inn in town to wash up and rest in a bed before the exchange the next day, when Jongdae and Sehun would join the foreign soldiers and travel to the Haiyang capital, while Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and the rest of the guards turned back home.

 

The atmosphere was subdued. Jongdae sat up late talking with Chanyeol and Baekhyun, feeling like the time limit on his normal life was quickly running out. They were just as reluctant as he was to call it a night, though; it was only when their candle ran out that they were forced to admit they’d all need some sleep to ride the next day. Jongdae lay awake for a long time after they’d left, forcing down feelings of something like panic.

 

The foreign soldiers met them at the edges of the town’s farmland the next day. There weren’t many of them, only five in total. The leader had to have been at least a head taller than Jongdae. Even seated on his horse he towered over Jongdae and his mount. He bowed over the reins when Jongdae’s party approached, his face impassive, and said something Jongdae didn't understand a word of. In an instant Sehun had nudged his horse forward and begun to translate, putting to rest whatever lingering doubts Jongdae had about bringing him along.

 

"Your Highness, welcome," Sehun supplied, and paused for the foreign soldier to continue. "My name is Kris, a commander of the Haiyang kingdom's forces in the south. My men and I will escort you to the capital safely." The soldier - Kris - paused, then continued in a more halting manner. Sehun gave him a moment to finish his thought before he translated. "Hopefully your travel here was not difficult."

 

Sehun continued to translate for both sides as Jongdae was introduced to each of the soldiers in Kris's group. They were for the most part burly looking, heavily armored men and women, with the exception of the fifth member of the company, a handsome young man in a light padded tunic who looked like he would rather be any place on earth other than on the back of his horse. He was introduced simply as 'Lord Huang', with no further explanation of who he was or why he was with the company. _Diplomat_ , Jongdae thought. But no, more likely a sorceror. Their neighbors to the north were infamous for the magic that ran in the blood of their citizens. Jongdae's people had no such advantage. 

 

"Safe travels, Your Highness," Chanyeol told him when the groups parted ways. He clearly didn't trust the leader of the party, if his scowl was anything to go by. Jongdae pressed his boot to the side of his horse, thinking of the knife he'd found strapped to the inside of it this morning. 

 

"Thank you, Chanyeol," he said firmly, and his friend seemed to understand. The group of soldiers turned and made their way back towards the capital and out of sight. 

 

Kris said something that sounded like an order, and the guard around Jongdae turned in the opposite direction. Jongdae and Sehun wheeled their horses around and followed. 

 

Somehow the trip from the border to the foreign capital seemed much longer than the first half of their journey. Several times Jongdae tried to make conversation with their escorts, but waiting for Sehun to translate was awkward and slow, and they consequently spent most of the time in silence. He had gotten at least that Lord Huang's first name was Zitao, and that he was not the intimidatingly silent type he appeared to be. At night Zitao chattered rapidly to Kris, the two of them keeping separate from the other soldiers. Both noble-born, Jongdae assumed. He and Sehun kept to themselves as well. Sehun set him to work in the evening practicing some simple phrases that he was likely to hear, either from their taciturn guards or at court. Jongdae's pronunciation needed a lot of work, but having something to work with made him feel instantly more optimistic. Encouraging, too, was the lack of assassination attempts from their escorts. Jongdae almost - almost - felt silly for sleeping with Chanyeol's knife under his pillow.

 

On the fifth day of riding, Kris pulled his horse up next to Jongdae's to speak. "Next town, we rest," he said haltingly, choosing his words carefully. Jongdae felt his eyes widen. Kris smiled at his confusion. "I speak a little. I need to practice," he explained.

 

"I don't mind helping," Jongdae answered, still startled. "The town we're stopping at, are we staying overnight?"

 

Kris nodded and nudged his horse forward, taking point again. Zitao, riding on Jongdae's right, caught his eye and cautiously smiled at him. Jongdae returned the gesture, and Zitao's expression relaxed a fraction, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Jongdae was beginning to reconsider his earlier trepidation. These foreign soldiers, battle-hardened killers though they might be, didn't seem cruel or even particularly hostile.

 

 

His optimism was short lived. The town they stopped at was small by any standard Jongdae was used to. He wondered if Kris had been taking them on the back roads to avoid running into too many people. It would have been a good strategy, if the locals' reaction to their arrival was any sign. The minute they entered the gates, Jongdae's nape prickled with the sense of eyes on him. In his bright riding tunic bearing the colors of the royal family, he was hard to miss. It was unlikely he would be recognized as a prince, but apparently even someone that looked like a servant of the southern royalty made for an incendiary sight. People spit on the street when their party passed by, despite the stern expressions of the soldiers surrounding Jongdae. An old woman shouted at them from the garden behind her house - nothing Jongdae could understand, but the tone was clear: he wasn't welcome.

 

Jongdae was subdued as they set up at the town inn, handing the horses off to the stablehands to rest. The prospect of hot food, a bath, and a real bed seemed too good to be true after so long on the road.

 

He emerged after bathing to the room was sharing with Kris for the night, finding his things neatly stacked on one of the beds and Kris himself sitting on the other. There was an awkward silence as Jongdae went about arranging his things.

 

“So the people here don’t seem too friendly. Should I be worried?” He kept his tone light, but Kris seemed to tell he was serious about the question.

 

"The people living along this route are used to a certain image of your people. It's usually used for prisoner transport. So.... they're not very welcoming."

 

"Oh great, good to know we're all being realistic about what this is." The words slipped out before Jongdae could stop himself, and he instantly regretted them. How many times had Joonmyun warned him his sharp tongue would get him into trouble?

 

Kris's expression darkened. "You're lucky you're _not_ a prisoner," he said with a scowl. "Some townspeople throwing rocks at you would be the least of your worries." Jongdae swallowed. 

 

The uncomfortable silence returned as Jongdae packed away his dirty clothes, trying to think of how to approach Kris now. Finally he turned around and squared his shoulders. "I'm sorry," he said seriously. "You've done a very good job of keeping Sehun and I safe. Probably wasn't your first choice of assignment, right?"

 

Kris looked at him for a moment, his mouth hanging open. "Actually, it was," he recovered himself. "The prince is a friend of mine. I wouldn't have trusted anyone else with the job."

 

"Oh," Jongdae said stupidly. "So why did he ask for me instead of my brother? Did he even have a say in it? What's he like?"

 

Kris laughed at the sudden flood of questions and the tension in the room seemed to ebb. "He was the one that suggested the peace treaty, and I think he asked for you because we heard you're very popular with the people. He wanted someone that would be able to win over the court." He considered Jongdae. "I think he probably picked right," he added conversationally, and Jongdae flushed at the unexpected compliment. 

 

"Anyway, what's he like...." Kris drummed his fingers on his leg thoughtfully, cocking his head. "Uh, well." More silence. Jongdae raised his eyebrows. "He's a good guy," Kris said finally. "Very... genuine. Enthusiastic. It gets him in trouble sometimes." He shrugged. "You'll see."

 

Jongdae nodded absently, lost in thought. ”So…”

 

Kris waited expectantly for him to continue the thought.

 

“Why was it necessary to have me come in the first place? If it’s just a peace treaty, couldn’t it be done without this?” He was almost afraid to ask too much.

 

Kris snorted derisively. “You really don’t know much about us down there, do you? He needs to pick a consort before he can challenge for the throne, and having foreign nobility openly support the treaty wins a lot of respect in other people’s eyes. It’s all posturing.”

 

“Oh.” Maybe Kris was right. It wasn’t as though he’d really thought much about what social niceties in the enemy kingdom might be like. “What do you mean challenge?”

 

“If we just waited for our monarchs to die, our kingdom would be full of ancient rulers,” Kris answered, looking at Jongdae as though this should be obvious. _Like yours is_ went unspoken. “The heir has to challenge the current ruler in a magic battle, around the time they’re twenty five or so, it’s not set in stone. If they win, they and their consort become the new king and queen, or whatever.”

 

“And if they lose?”

 

Now Kris paused. “If they lose, they’re executed, and the next in line gets a chance to challenge.”

 

“Well.” Jongdae sat down on his bed, his mood plummeting. “That’s just great.” _Good to know my life depends on this guy being good at whatever bizarre power he has_ , Jongdae thought, flopping himself down on the sheets and staring at the ceiling.

 

It wasn't a lot to go off of, and it wasn’t exactly comforting, but it was more information than he'd had before. Jongdae's thoughts carried him through that night and sat at the back of his mind as they continued on their trip. 

 

 

At first as they neared the capital, Jongdae wondered if they might be able to arrive without all the fanfare foreign royalty would usually merit. It was a vain hope. They spent the first night in the city at a residence that belonged to Kris, or to his family at any rate. When they left the next morning, there was a carriage waiting for them outside that bore them up through the streets to the front gates of the palace.

 

It was utterly unlike the high spires and twisting walls Jongdae was used to. This was a sprawling, arched labyrinth of buildings that seemed to circle out from a central, circular hall. It was surrounded on every side by lavish gardens, with plenty of room for new buildings to be added onto the sides. Unlike his people, who stubbornly built up when there was little space available, Jongdae's impression of this capital was that it was built out, and could continue to be built out for a good long time. The sheer space it took up was a little staggering. So too were the winding roads around the sides of the compound they took to bring them to the center, where an entourage waited for them at the foot of a low set of steps.

 

"Wow," Sehun remarked, leaning around Jongdae to look. "Do you think that's him there?"

 

Jongdae looked. Indeed, one of the members of the group of what looked to be courtiers and minor nobility gathered at the steps to greet them seemed about the right age, and he was standing in the center, the other members of the party grouped around him. As they got approached, he got a closer look at the man. He had dark hair and a serious face, his mouth set in a resting half-smile. _Maybe this won't be so bad_ , Jongdae thought.

 

Kris opened the carriage door for Jongdae when they finally pulled up to the steps.

 

"His highness Prince Jongdae of Sanheoli."

 

The man Jongdae had assumed must be Luhan stepped forward to greet him. "Your highness," he greeted formally, bowing to Jongdae. "Welcome to our kingdom. I hope the travel was not strenuous for you."

 

"Not at all," Jongdae lied politely, and when Sehun translated the response he gestured to him. "This is my translator, Lord Oh Sehun."

 

"Welcome to both of you. I am the palace healer, Lord Zhang. But please call me Yixing." He smiled, his eyes crinkling. Jongdae tamped down the strange sense of disappointment he felt. He'd have to wait longer to meet his betrothed, apparently.

 

Yixing led them up the stairs and into an ornate antechamber, all the while explaining the plans that had been set out for Jongdae. "We have arranged a small reception for you tonight, Your Highness. The nobility are eager to meet you--" _I'll bet,_ thought Jongdae, _more like eager to gawk._ "Of course, that will be after you are introduced to the king and queen, and to the prince. You'll have your own separate quarters on the same side of the palace as Prince Luhan, and we've set up chambers for Lord Oh near to yours."

 

He paused before a set of large double doors. "If there's anything you need while you're getting settled, Kris, Tao, or I will all be around to help."

 

That was interesting. So they had something in common, aside from being the only foreign nobility he'd met so far. Maybe they'd been specifically picked.

 

He couldn't spend more time thinking about it, however, because abruptly Yixing was opening the doors and announcing him, and there were the king and queen of his country's longtime enemy, greeting him with brittle smiles that did little to reassure him. Jongdae was acutely aware of how alone he was. Sehun's even voice translating his formal greeting steadied him.

 

The queen was an elegant woman, small but full of an inner fierceness that shone from her eyes. Her dark hair was artfully twisted atop her head. Her husband, in contrast, was a stout man with a neatly trimmed beard. It was a little surreal speaking to them.

 

After he'd been introduced to both royals, the queen waved over someone Jongdae hadn't initially noticed. "Your betrothed, Prince Luhan," she told Jongdae, stepping back to allow Luhan to greet him.

 

Jongdae had tried not to imagine too much what his fiance might be like, the earlier confusion with Yixing notwithstanding. Luhan looked to be about his age, but beyond that he was hard to get a read on. He seemed like a fairy tale prince straight from the pages of a book - soft brown hair, fair skin, gentle features - but there was something in his pleasant expression that didn't reach his eyes. Jongdae felt tense despite the polite smile on Luhan's handsome face.

 

"We're very grateful you agree with our commitment to peace," Luhan said. Even his voice sounded soft. It was too polished to be natural, though. _He's too genuine_ , Kris had said. The man in front of him seemed anything but.

 

"Our kingdom is dedicated to the effort," Jongdae agreed, trying to channel his diplomacy tutor. He could feel the eyes of all three members of the royal family in front of him evaluating him, searching his expression. It was a good thing he _wasn't_ an assassin in disguise. Jongdae had never had much of a poker face.

 

Fortunately, Luhan let him off the hook. "You must be tired from traveling. Please, get some rest before the reception tonight."

 

Jongdae nodded as Yixing reappeared to lead him away. He kept quiet while they made their way to one of the side wings of the palace. His rooms were large and tastefully decorated, although not in a style he would ever have seen in the south. Wood was heavily present, giving a more soft feeling to the whole setup than Jongdae's rooms at home, where almost everything was furnished with metal. They had mineral resources in abundance from the mines set into the mountains, but it was apparent that the Haiyang kingdom did not have such easy access to the silver and copper Jongdae was used to. He felt absently for the metal charm that laid underneath his shirt, feeling the outline pressed into his skin like a tiny piece of home.

 

They'd left his pack by his bed. Jongdae rifled through the meager belongings he'd brought with him with a sigh. It seemed like they hadn't searched it, or at least hadn't searched carefully; Chanyeol's knife was still at the bottom, wrapped inside as old shirt. He'd stopped sleeping with it under his pillow after he and Kris had had their talk, but now that they'd reached the palace he felt significantly less safe. Jongdae tucked the knife into the casing of the pillow on the bed, hoping the servants wouldn't find it. It never hurt to be prepared.

 

 

 

The reception was a slow torture. Jongdae tried his best to remember faces and names and titles and relations, but he'd had a hard enough time in his own court, with people he'd known his entire life. Trying to commit the entirety of the foreign nobility while making polite conversation in their language was more than he could really manage. Sehun was a godsend, translating smoothly for him whenever Jongdae struggled for words. Luhan, for his part, was cordial to Jongdae but nothing more; he introduced everyone that approached them and left Jongdae to field any questions or comments that came his way on his own. Jongdae had looked to him for help, just once, when he'd forgotten the name of some noblewoman his conversation partner had asked after. Luhan had taken in his uncertain expression and remained silent, his face giving nothing away.

 

Fine, Jongdae had thought, furious. It was clear he was on his own. He bolstered his smile and dove back into the seemingly endless stream of political allies and enemies, no longer waiting for his fiancé to cue him as to which were which. His anger carried him through most of the night admirably. It was fortunate that he still wasn't very proficient in the language, or he might have taken a jab or two at Luhan in front of the guests.

 

That was about the only fortunate thing. The longer the event wore on, the more Jongdae's anger faded into exhaustion and the more he regretted that he was stuck here, surrounded by people who would probably love to put a knife in his back - or his front, really - with a fiancé that showed no more interest in him than in what was in the canapés. He'd actually liked this kind of thing at home; it was fun to meet and talk with new people, to share stories about the war front or social scene at court.

 

Yixing turned out to be his saving grace. He found Jongdae's side as the night seemed to be winding down, offering him a glass of wine. "You've been doing really well," he murmured, looking out over the crowd. "I think everyone's impressed." 

 

Jongdae raised an eyebrow, sipping gingerly from his glass. "Why? All I've done is meet people and make small talk all night."

 

"You seem honest," Yixing told him, smiling. "It's not common here." 

 

 "That's the impression I'm getting," Jongdae admitted, feeling for some reason like Yixing was more transparent than most of the people he'd met that night. "Although that's true of any group of nobles, right?"

 

Yixing laughed, unexpectedly loud compared to his soft voice. "That's true," he agreed. He patted Jongdae on the shoulder. "Don't let it get to you. You're doing great."

 

Jongdae considered him for a moment. Yixing seemed to read what he was thinking. "I wasn't sure about this plan of Luhan's," he admitted. "I expected-- well, we hear stories about your people. But I think everything will work out."

 

"Why _did_ he plan this?" Jongdae asked before he could stop himself. Yixing and Luhan seemed to be close, if the way Yixing talked about him was any indication.

 

Yixing only smiled at him. "You should ask him," he suggested, and then just as easily took his leave of Jongdae and approached a group of young women that had been glancing over at them from the corner for the last several minutes.

 

Jongdae looked over at Sehun to get his read on the situation, but Sehun seemed just as clueless as he was. Jongdae sighed. It wasn't clear to him if he'd ever get a solid answer out of Luhan.

 

\---

 

The formal reception was, mercifully, the most Jongdae needed to be in the public eye until the wedding ceremony. Yixing had explained that the more present he was before the alliance was consolidated, the more in danger he was in from factions within the kingdom that felt their crown prince shouldn’t be marrying the son of their enemies, and so he was to be kept shielded from most of the court. Jongdae didn’t have a problem with that – he’d had quite enough of being thrown to the wolves to last him a lifetime. In the meantime he’d decided to focus on improving his language skills and learning about the Haiyang kingdom so he wouldn’t need to rely on Luhan for anything. Even Yixing, although he seemed friendly and willing to help, couldn’t be totally trusted just yet. He didn’t know enough about the motivations of the people at this court.

 

At first he'd tried to stick to the library, combing through books on the history and culture of his new home to understand better how it worked, but Jongdae was at his heart a people person. He wanted to be talking to someone, learning by experience rather than reading about things in ancient books. Sehun seemed to share his sentiments. Jongdae had walked by his chambers looking for company and heard Zitao's (or Tao, as his friends seemed to all call him) voice often enough that he'd concluded they must be friends. It made sense that they would get along, really, they were the same age and seemed to have similar interests, and Sehun didn't have the same language barrier problem that Jongdae did. Still, he couldn't help the feeling of betrayal that came with realizing Sehun was adjusting better than he was.

 

Jongdae stuck to practicing his language skills with Sehun and Yixing, when they were free. Yixing spoke only a little of Jongdae's language, and seemed to have as much trouble understanding some of the things Jongdae said to him as vice versa, which made Jongdae feel better about how slowly he was picking up on some of the finer grammar rules. He'd started spending some time with Kris as well, who reminded him a little of Chanyeol in some ways. As an officer in the army, he didn't have much extra time to spend keeping Jongdae company, but he'd given Jongdae permission to watch the soldiers practice their drills. It was something to do, and exercising at the same time as the soldiers kept him from falling out of shape.

 

He barely saw Luhan. Unless there was a formal event that required both of their presence, Luhan seemed to stick to other parts of the palace, and when they did interact he was just as unresponsive and cold as he'd been during the reception. Jongdae had given up trying to start conversations with him. He was never openly hostile, but Jongdae was learning that people in this court would rather be cordial and then stab you in the back than give away their intentions from the beginning. He'd started to wonder for the first time in his life if he was really cut out to be royalty or if he should run away and live as a hermit in the woods; Jongdae understood the need for subtlety and even lies in politics, but he wasn't much good at it.

 

There was a certain amount of obligatory social niceties that came with the territory of being royalty, however, and Jongdae wasn't totally able to escape all of them. Most of the time there was thinly veiled hostility underneath the surface. He'd been invited to a card game by several noblemen, one whose rules Jongdae hadn't fully understood even after Sehun had painstakingly translated for him. They'd laughed uproariously when Jongdae had played the wrong card, and he'd laughed along with them, joking about his own ineptitude. When a group of ladies asked him to come to their weekly social lunch, he'd had to fend off increasingly offensive questions about his way of life - was it true that his people tortured and ate the prisoners they captured from the warfront, were the mines really manned entirely by children, did they really want the border zone so they could convert the countries across the sea to their religion? He'd answered with jokes and quips, which seemed to satisfy the group, even though hearing some of their rumors had made him feel ill.

 

There were other, more insidious interactions, however. Jongdae had been strolling through the palace hallways, staring at the landscapes that were hung on the walls. Sehun trailed after him, bored. He'd been looking at one particular painting, one of the palace in the summertime, when an unfamiliar voice interrupted his thoughts.

 

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Jongdae turned to see a young woman standing behind him, her gaze fixed on the painting over his shoulder. "Apparently the painter's magical talent was an ability to control paper, so she was able to manipulate the canvas in just the right way to capture what she wanted." She tucked a lock of her long dark hair behind her ear, turning to Jongdae. "I'm Lady Zhang Liyin," she introduced herself. "I've heard so much about you, Your Highness. Will you take a walk with me? I'd love to show you more of this painter's work."

 

They made their way down the halls, Lady Zhang pointing out paintings here and there and describing what they depicted. "What do you think of our country so far, my lord?" She asked lightly as they turned a corner. Jongdae was trying to keep track of where they were - the palace was big and he hadn't explored nearly all of it yet.

 

"I'm enjoying it," Jongdae said, which was really the only thing he could say. "Everyone I've met has been very welcoming despite our nations' history." Okay, that wasn't true, but it was polite to say. Sehun made a small noise behind him that Jongdae ignored.

 

"I'm overjoyed to hear you say that." Lady Zhang replied, keeping up the dance of polite conversation. "And what of our prince?"

 

Jongdae considered how to answer without seeming dishonest. "I haven't had the chance to get to know him well yet," he said finally. "But I'm looking forward to doing so."

 

Lady Zhang seemed to find this amusing. She smiled at the walls, not making eye contact with Jongdae. "I have noticed you've been getting along rather well with Lord Yixing. Do you have a more solid opinion of him?"

 

"He's a good man," Jongdae answered. "He seems... very dedicated."

 

"He's incredibly hardworking," Lady Zhang agreed. "Be he very seldom is recognized for it. It seems a shame, don't you think?"

 

There was something in that question that Jongdae was wary of, although he couldn't put his finger on exactly what. He took his time responding. "I think some people are passionate about doing good work for its own sake," he said carefully. "And it's a lesson the rest of us can really learn from."

 

Lady Zhang slowed to a stop in front of another painting, this one of an abstract blue and gold scene. "This is one of my favorites," she told Jongdae. "Unfortunately, no one quite knows what to make of it. Is it the sky or the sea? I have my own opinion of what I think it ought to be showing, of course. But I suppose only the painter knows what the correct choice is." She smiled sweetly at Jongdae, and he had the feeling they weren't talking about the painting at all.

 

"That was interesting," Sehun said later, after Lady Zhang had left them.

 

"It was," Jongdae agreed. "What do you think she was trying to ask?"

 

"I don't know." Sehun shrugged. "But I think you should watch your back, Jongdae. Whatever games are going on here, they seem serious about them."

 

He had trouble sleeping that night, Sehun's words ringing in his ears. There were things people weren't telling him, obviously - but he wasn't so sure he wanted find out what.

 

\---

 

Jongdae woke to the faint sound of wood scraping against itself, barely noticeable above his own soft breaths. The servant's entrance, concealed behind one of the bookshelves, laid open. In the wan light filtering through the window, he could see a figure stepping slowly into his room, their footsteps muffled by the carpet. Instantly his heart was hammering in his chest. He sent a silent thanks to whatever god was looking out for him, feeling around carefully under his pillow for Chanyeol's knife. Almost-- there. He gripped it tightly, his whole body tensing as the figure crept closer. Instead of lunging at him, though, it stopped by the light on the wall and lit a match, touching it to the wick of the candle. Abruptly the room was thrown into dim light. When the figure turned, he could see--

 

"Don't come any closer!" he hissed, at the same time Luhan said, "Woah, woah! Put down the knife, it's only me!"

 

Jongdae pulled the knife closer instead, sitting up. Luhan moved warily to the far end of the bed, his hands raised. "I'm not here to try and kill you," he said, his eyes fixed on the blade in Jongdae's hand. "I just wanted to talk to you privately."

 

"Yeah, sure," Jongdae scoffed, and then paused, realizing something. "How are you... you speak my language?"

 

Luhan nodded frantically, still looking like he was afraid Jongdae would lunge at him any second. "I didn't want to have to bother with a translator forever," he said. Jongdae still wasn't convinced. Evidently it showed on his face, because Luhan moved towards the bed very slowly as he spoke, as though Jongdae were a frightened animal.

 

Luhan produced a wrapped piece of cloth from a pouch on his waist. "I brought food," he offered. "I thought you might be more willing to speak honestly after something to eat." He untucked the edge of the fabric, showing Jongdae the row of flaky rolls inside.

 

Jongdae's eyes narrowed. 'He's trying to poison you!' shouted a voice in the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like Joonmyun. But, well... he WAS hungry. "Okay..." he said slowly. He would just let Luhan take one first. He tucked the knife carefully back under his pillow.

 

There was an awkward moment where Jongdae shuffled out from under the covers and arranged himself with his legs crossed in front of him on top of the blankets. Luhan perched near the foot of the bed. "Just keep your voice down. I don't want the guards making a scene."

 

Luhan studied him as he laid out the cloth full of rolls onto the bedspread. His expression was unreadable. Jongdae swallowed nervously, trying not to let his anxiety about the situation show. He'd heard from childhood that the royalty of the Haiyang kingdom had powerful magic they used to control and delude their subjects. There was no way to tell what exactly Luhan was capable of.

 

"You're not like I thought you'd be," Luhan said finally, tearing his gaze away from Jongdae to tear one of the rolls in half. He popped his portion in his mouth and held out the other section to Jongdae silently.

 

"And how is that?" Jongdae asked, taking it hesitantly. If Luhan had eaten this one, it was probably safe. He took a small bite, and when no bitterness was forthcoming, began to nibble more enthusiastically at it.

 

"You're more naive," Luhan said bluntly, watching him eat. Jongdae stiffened. "It's not poisoned," Luhan hurried to add. "I just mean - I was surprised that you're not more.... conniving. Unless you're playing me." He laughed. "Don't you have people in your kingdom who try to manipulate you or trap you? I heard about Lady Zhang approaching you, and you weren't exactly quick on your guard at the reception." He shrugged, managing to look both mildly apologetic and totally insincere at once. Jongdae frowned.

 

"If there was something you wanted me to be prepared for, you could have warned me about it ahead of time," he pointed out.

 

"I didn't think I'd need to." Luhan looked at him incredulously. "Don't you have people like that at your court? Power-seekers trying to figure out your weaknesses, turn your allies against you?"

 

Jongdae considered this. "Well... no, not like I've seen from people here. We have power struggles, of course, but they're more.... dynastic. Families trying to get power by marriage or land or trade agreements, that kind of thing." He gave Luhan a disgruntled look. "Anyway, I kind of figured you would help me get my bearings, since my life here literally depends on you. It's not like stabbing you in the back would get me anywhere."

 

Luhan had the grace to look abashed. "I'm sorry. I was trying to get a read on you. It's not exactly as though I've been raised to think your people are trustworthy." He still looked a little guarded, honestly, but Jongdae couldn't blame him.

 

"Well," he shrugged. "Same here. I guess I'm more worried about someone setting me on fire or sacrificing me for magic power than trying to trick me into some political overthrow."

 

"Hold on. Sacrificing you?"

 

"Yeah," it was Jongdae's turn to be on his guard. "Bleeding out prisoners, killing dogs and cats and using their life force to fuel--- we've heard about all of it!" He insisted, watching Luhan's expression go from confused to alarmed. "Or orphan children--"

 

"We do not kill children," snapped Luhan, his eyes flashing. "Or dogs, OR prisoners!" He hesitated. "Well, maybe some prisoners, but not for anything magic. You can't get your power from somewhere else, it comes from inside you and when you're out you're out, just like any exercise. We don't... sacrifice or torture or any of that."

 

Jongdae studied him. Luhan looked right back, unflinching. He thought about all the rumors and strange questions he'd heard from people here about his own customs. "Okay," he said finally. "I guess... well, I've heard rumors about your people, but I guess they're not true."

 

Luhan nodded vehemently. "That's the problem with war," he said, his voice rising a little. "It wastes lives and people get the wrong idea about each other, start hating an idea instead of seeing others for what they really are."

 

"It's all pretty terrible," Jongdae agreed. "I've lost too many friends to it." He hesitated. "Is that.... is that why you planned this? The peace treaty?"

 

Luhan nodded, tearing another roll in half. "That was part of it," he said, watching Jongdae. "I had a good friend die in battle recently. And I needed a partner anyway, I'm just about the age I should be taking the throne - so I thought, let's just solve both problems. I don't think the queen was happy about it, honestly, but if she defeats me then she can write the whole peace treaty off as my stupid mistake.”

 

Jongdae didn't quite know how to respond. The man in front of him was so unlike the Luhan he'd met already, it was like a different person.

 

"As long as you're here and answering my questions...." he began. Luhan looked up expectantly. "What exactly should I be expecting here?"

 

Luhan frowned. "Do you mean the wedding, or...?"

 

"Yeah, sure, let's start with the wedding." Jongdae settled in. He was starting to feel more comfortable, now that he felt like he was getting a read on Luhan.

 

"We'll exchange vows, you know that part. About exclusivity and supporting me as King and sharing of magic, the usual kind--"

 

"Sharing of magic?" Jongdae interrupted. Luhan looked up, surprised.

 

"Oh, that's right, your people don't have magic. Well, it will be one sided, but it's traditional." He shrugged.

 

That didn't answer any of Jongdae's questions. "Is this some kind of... magic binding, secret, unbreakable promise-- stop laughing!" he whined as Luhan quickly tried to turn his laugh into a cough.

 

"No," Luhan said, clearing his throat. "It's nothing secret or dramatic or anything, it's just me asking you if I can use my magic with you, and you say yes,"

 

"Naturally," Jongdae said drily.

 

"Naturally, you say yes," Luhan agreed. "And then if you had any magic to speak of, you ask too, and I'd say yes, and then we move on to who gets control of the kingdom in the event you slip me some poison one day."

 

"That's it?" Jongdae asked, staring. "It's just asking permission?"

 

"Yes," Luhan nodded. "It's not that easy to use magic directly on someone who hasn't given their consent. It takes a lot of power. And that's a good thing, or you can imagine how many bar fights would end badly around here." He grinned.

 

"But your soldiers use magic on our forces all the time," Jongdae pointed out. 

 

"Not as often as you might think," Luhan said, shuffling around until he was more comfortable. "It's mostly only higher-ranking soldiers, since they have more powerful magic. And there are other ways. Some kinds of magic can be contained inside something and then used later. That's most of what gets used on the front."

 

He'd never heard any of that. Of course, Jongdae had never actually been in a battle himself, but Chanyeol and Baekhyun's stories had sounded much more dramatic. "Should you really be telling me all this?" He asked, frowning at Luhan.

 

Luhan shrugged. "You're part of this kingdom now, aren't you? And if our countries start fighting again, we'll probably both be dead already anyway." He stuffed a roll in his mouth. A few stray flakes settled at the corner of his mouth. It was so un-royal-like Jongdae almost smiled, but he was too thrown off by what Luhan had just said.

 

"We'll both be dead?" 

 

"Well, they might kill you to cause problems for me, since I was the one that pushed for the treaty and for to you to come here," Luhan conceded. "But I'm the bigger target, and if I get assassinated I'm sure they'll kill you too. Sorry." 

 

"You have that many problems with assassination attempts here? Even for the prince?" Jongdae frowned. It seemed a little hard to believe. 

 

"You might have noticed, but this court is pretty cutthroat." Luhan looked around, as though expecting someone to attack them now that he'd started on the topic. "There's no loyalty even to family, it's every man and woman for themselves. There are plenty of people who'd like to take the throne from me, or who'd like to put their favorite candidate on it instead."

 

 "Well, thanks for making me a part of the happy family," Jongdae said drily.

 

Luhan snorted and gave him a searching look. "You know," he said, settling into a grin, "I think you're going to do fine here." He ignored the sound of incredulity that Jongdae couldn't hold back. "Why don't you tell me more about how things are in the south? What's your family like?"

 

Jongdae had only gotten halfway through the story of the time Jongin had smuggled three puppies into the palace and kept them hidden for a week from everyone when there was a sound from outside.

 

"Oh!" Luhan whispered, springing up. "I can't let them find me here, there'll be rumors 'til we both die. I'll see you later!" He dashed out the servant's passage just before one of the guards poked his head into the room.

 

Jongdae waved at him lamely. "Great night we're having, huh?"

 

\---

 

Now that he'd seen Luhan in a more relaxed setting, Jongdae felt like he was finally starting to understand him, even to like him.

 

Formal events had become bearable now that he could tell when Luhan was bored. Jongdae wasn't invited to many meetings, but there were a few that he'd apparently been deemed a serious enough member of the royalty here to attend, mostly concerned with trivial matters like how to restore the portraits of previous kings and queens. It was an important step to his acceptance at the court, Jongdae knew, but it was also incredibly dull. Luhan seemed to agree. He'd made a game of catching Jongdae's eye and mouthing words in Jongdae's language when the meeting dragged on too long. Jongdae's lipreading abilities had improved rapidly.

 

There were also formal dinners with the king and queen, as well as assorted nobility that were invited to come and mingle. These were stressful events even when the nobles weren't overt about their distaste for Jongdae and his entire people, but often that was the icing on the cake. Jongdae deflected questions and accusations with an ease that he suspected would have made his family tear up. Luhan gave just as good; he had a way of following up Jongdae's diversions with seemingly innocent questions that obviously hit some sores spots for the more rude members of the nobility. It felt a little bit like they were on a team. Jongdae was grateful for the change in Luhan's behavior; without him there would have been little more for him to shield himself with aside from a positive attitude.

 

He'd almost forgotten that their wedding date was coming up, but Yixing was happy to remind him, dropping by Jongdae's rooms one day with a manuscript detailing the kingdom's marriage traditions.

 

"You should memorize the lines so you know what's happening," he advised Jongdae. "Your comprehension is getting better, but there's some very old and formal language that's used in a wedding. Better to be prepared."

 

"How complicated could it be?" Jongdae had joked, but he'd spent the next several days going over the process, practicing his pronunciation until he was sure he had it down. Just in case.

 

 ---

 

The collar of his robes was itching. Jongdae tried not to grimace as a fleet of stylists fluttered around his head, patting colored powder onto his face and arranging his hair. It was a place just to the left of his spine, where a few threads had frayed and were rubbing up against his neck. He rolled his shoulders, earning a scolding from the woman carefully curling the ends of his hair. If he could just--

 

"Look up," instructed the man at Jongdae's front, holding up a brush loaded with some dark liquid. Jongdae swallowed a sigh and obediently directed his gaze at the ceiling. He felt a tickling along the bottom edge of his eye and concentrated on not blinking. 

 

The whole affair had been going on for close to an hour already, with no sign of letting up. His robes, already carefully fitted to his body, had been arranged and rearranged until the gray haired matron overseeing the entire process had given an approving nod. Now they were preparing the rest of him. Jongdae could have used a few minutes to breathe instead. He'd been over the vows many times before, practicing what he'd need to say and when. He wasn't generally afraid of public speaking, but the idea of standing up in front of thousands of his former enemies, telling them in their own language that he was prepared to help lead them-- well, some nervousness seemed reasonable. Luhan hadn't shared his concerns when Jongdae had voiced them to him. 

 

"You'll be fine," he'd said dismissively, looking at Jongdae over the rim of his wine glass. Jongdae had continued to play with the stem of his, watching the liquid swirl around. "No matter what you do they won't trust you. So don't worry!" He added another piece of cookie to the tower he'd been building on his plate. 

 

Jongdae had taken a moment to marvel that Luhan had ever seemed stoic or cold to him. Ever since they'd had a chance to speak one on one, he felt like he was really starting to get to know his fiancé, and Luhan himself was making it very easy. He was a surprisingly open person. Although sometimes maybe too open.

 

"Don't tell me that!" He whined unhappily. "I want them to accept me, not hate me for the rest of my life!"

 

"You have a handsome face, so they won't hate you," Luhan reassured him, removing the tower's newest layer and placing it on Jongdae's plate instead like a peace offering. "But they probably won't trust your motivations. Look at it this way, would the members of your court trust me if the situation were reversed?"

 

"No," Jongdae answered immediately, a little distracted by the first half of that.

 

"Right," said Luhan easily. "So don't let it bother you. Just follow along like you've practiced and it will go well."

 

The stylist had moved on to Jongdae’s other eye, carefully lining it in black pigment. His lips got a similar treatment from a brush loaded with something red. Jongdae was determined to avoid any mirrors from now until the end of the day; he didn’t need to see how ridiculous he undoubtedly looked. It turned out he needn’t have worried. When the flurry of brushes flicking over his face had finally died down, he was quickly ushered out of the room and down a long hallway he’d never seen before. Sehun was waiting at the end, looking out of place next to a pair of large double doors and wearing formal robes similar to Jongdae’s. He brightened at the sight of Jongdae and his entourage of servants. Jongdae was starting to wonder if he’d be able to do anything during this ceremony without his hair being readjusted by three separate people.

 

“I’m supposed to attend you,” Sehun informed him in their own language, his face as serious looking as always. “In case you trip over yourself and embarrass us,”

 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Jongdae answered, allowing himself to be ushered in front of the door.

 

There was the soft sound of music coming from the other side, and even louder, the voice of the queen making some kind of speech. Her voice was too indistinct for Jongdae to understand, but whatever she had said was greeted by the roaring of a crowd.

 

“Wouldn’t it be funny if instead of a wedding we walk into a death match?” he muttered under his breath to Sehun. Sehun choked on a laugh.

 

They both quickly straightened and tried to look serious as one of the doors cracked open and an older woman’s face looked out at them. “Entry on ten,” She said, and the flurry of adjusting and readjusting Jongdae’s clothing intensified. Even Sehun received a careful brushing down. Jongdae drew in a deep breath.

 

Almost immediately, the doors were fully thrown open. A torrent of sound poured out; a dozen musicians playing an unfamiliar tune and the low rumble of voices from the hundreds of people – mostly nobility, Jongdae thought, scanning over them quickly – that rose in volume as he stepped forward. Instantly Sehun was at his elbow, gently but steadily leading him to the center of the room. The king and queen waited at a raised dais where two curled silver circlets rested on a red cloth. Luhan was there as well, Jongdae realized, seated in a matching silver throne facing the crowd. Jongdae kept his eyes fixed straight forward on the chair beside him, not trusting himself to look at Luhan, the queen, or the throngs of nobles carefully craning over each other to catch sight of him. Sehun’s grip on his arm was bracing. Jongdae felt an overwhelming wave of gratitude for him.

 

Sehun slipped away at the last row of stands, falling back to wait beside them while Jongdae continued into the circular center of the room. When he reached the middle, Jongdae bowed deeply first to the queen and then to the King, as he’d been instructed. The queen inclined her head in response. “Please be seated,” she instructed him, and the music faded away. A hush fell on the crowd as the Jongdae carefully made his way to the throne on Luhan’s left side and sat down. Luhan kept his eyes trained carefully forward, and Jongdae followed his lead, staring out into the middle distance over the heads of the crowd. The glint of light shining off the binoculars of people in the back of the room drew his eye to the top of the stands. The whole setup was a bit like an indoor amphitheater, staggered so that those in the back were close to the ceiling.

 

“My fair people,” began the queen, and launched into a speech that by any of Jongdae’s estimates must have lasted at least an hour and a half. With every eye on himself and Luhan, though, fidgeting was out of the question. He couldn’t see the royal family from where they were seated, but the sound carried clearly from the dais behind Jongdae, where the queen stood. He paid close attention for the first thirty minutes or so, while the queen covered - from what he could understand, anyway - what an honor it was to present the court with her heir, finally coming of age and taking a consort of his choice. As she started moving into the history of how Luhan had been educated and his achievements in various noble pursuits, Jongdae started counting all the pairs of binoculars he could see. At around what he assumed was the hour mark, the queen moved on to the generosity of various members of the nobility who had supported herself and Luhan in preparing for the ceremony. Jongdae kept his ears out for any names he recognized in the list of benefactors while scanning over the fashion trends of the court. Blue and magenta seemed to be a popular combination right now, and Jongdae counted at least thirty hats on the ladies that consisted of an intricate arrangement of metal wires and pieces of white fabric strung across them, like miniature sailing ships. Sehun had probably been scowling at them for half the proceedings.

 

The queen seemed to be winding down, Jongdae realized. It was almost as an afterthought that he heard his name and title brought up. After a brief introduction, there was a mention of the peace treaty that had been signed between their nations and of the royal family’s hopes for furthered cooperation. It was so lacking compared to the rest of the speech that Jongdae caught himself starting to furrow his brow in confusion and quickly smoothed out his features. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Luhan sitting up straighter in his chair, his spine rigid.

 

“And now,” the queen announced, her voice getting closer. “Our prince and his consort will receive our blessing.”

 

Jongdae tilted his chin up marginally, preparing himself. He was still a little in disbelief that the peace treaty had barely featured in the speech, but it was clear from his posture that Luhan was just as surprised. Or he was acting surprised, at least. Jongdae pressed his lips together tightly to keep from frowning.

 

As the queen stepped into the edge of his peripheral vision, Jongdae could see that she was holding one of the circlets in the air over Luhan’s head. “Prince Luhan,” she said, her voice carrying across the room. “Will you receive our blessing for your marriage to Prince Jongdae of Sanheoli?”

 

“I will,” Luhan answered, looking forward steadily. Jongdae carefully didn’t look at him, keeping his own eyes forward as well. Luhan’s voice was even, but he was a bit soft-spoken. The nobles farther up in the stands were leaning forward to hear him. “As the next King of the realm, I graciously accept your Majesty’s blessings for myself and my consort."

 

"And you will accept his burdens and gifts alike as your own? Will you let the hand of fate guide you together in all matters?" That was the line that dealt with magic, although if Luhan hadn't told him he would have never guessed it. It was also, unfortunately, the part of the vows that meant if Luhan were ever put to death for some reason Jongdae would be executed with him.

"I will," Luhan repeated. The queen placed the circlet on his head with an air of finality.

 

By contrast, Jongdae's voice carried easily over all the rows of onlookers when it was his turn to go through the vows. He too received a circlet, and then together he and Luhan walked once around the center of the room, their hands held high, while the music resumed. After all the buildup, the actual ceremony had gone very fast. In no time at all they were being guided out the doors while the guests applauded.

 

 

As soon as they exited the room, Luhan was pulled off down one hallway and Jongdae another. There was no chance for Jongdae to do anything but allow himself to be whisked back to the dressing chamber, where his heavy robes were switched out for lighter ones, still in the same elegant silver and blue thread that his wedding outfit had been stitched in.

 

“That’s a good color on you, I’m glad they picked it,” came Sehun’s voice from the direction of the door. “The blue is really big here right now, apparently. But did you see the woman that was trying to pair it with the little olive capelet in the third row? I don’t care who you are, no one looks good in olive to begin with and it definitely doesn’t go with light blue.” Jongdae snorted.

 

“Should you even be in here?” He asked, obligingly lifting up his feet for his shoes to be changed out as well. He hoped none of the servants understood what they were saying, or they’d probably be gossip tomorrow that he and Sehun were either sleeping together or hated each other. Or both.

 

“Probably not,” said Sehun, unconcerned. “But I’m too cute to kick out, don’t you think?”

 

Jongdae’s stifled laughter turned into a groan as the crowd of stylists descended on him with fresh makeup, touching up everything that might have fallen out of place in the few hours he’d been getting married. Sehun continued talking while Jongdae tried to keep his face still.

 

“They were supposed to play our national anthem while you walked in,” he said, his voice, as usual, largely lacking inflection. “I’m not sure what happened with that. The queen’s speech was very nice though. I think I recognized some of the people she mentioned from the ball the other week.”

 

“Me too,” said Jongdae, released from the frenzy of brushes touching up what seemed like every part of his face.

 

“Luhan was very handsome,” Sehun continued. “Did you see?”

 

“I barely looked at him,” Jongdae confessed, waiting for the last stylist to finish curling his hair. “I was too worried about everything else.”

 

“You’ll see him at the party,” Sehun shrugged. “There’s what, three days of celebrating including today?”

 

"Three days," Jongdae agreed. "Which probably means twice that many outfits I'll have to get changed into." The stylists seemed to be finished with him finally. Sehun followed along as Jongdae was led back down through a different set of hallways.

  
  
"It could be worse," he reassured Jongdae. "You could be repeating outfits instead. THAT would be really terrible."

  
  
"I'm glad you're here, Sehun," Jongdae told him as they slowed to a halt in an anteroom. Sehun smiled at him, ducking his head.

  
  
"I think I have to go in the other way," he explained, gesturing behind him at the corridor they'd just come down. "I'll see you inside the ball." With a wave, he slipped out, one of the servants attending Jongdae peeling off to hold open the door for him.

  
  
"Please wait here for a moment, Your Highness," said one of the attendants to Jongdae's right. "The prince is on his way to join you."

  
  
"Certainly," Jongdae answered politely, nodding at her. He took the opportunity to take a few deep breaths and square himself for the flood of unfamiliar faces that he was about to be thrust into. The circlet, still resting gently on his head, was itching a little, but Jongdae resisted the urge to adjust it. He had a feeling all the careful arranging of his hair the stylists had just done would be destroyed the second he moved it.

 

"His Highness the crown prince," announced someone at the door, and immediately the servants around Jongdae bowed deeply in that direction. Jongdae turned to see Luhan stepping through the threshold and felt his eyebrows lift of their own accord. Whatever Luhan's attendants had done with his makeup, he looked fantastic. There was a thick ring of black that faded into a navy blue defining his eyes. The rest of his skin was too clear and smooth to be natural, his hair swept effortlessly to the side. Jongdae remembered his first impression of Luhan and smiled at him. A fairy tale prince, indeed.

 

Luhan looked just as glad to see him. His eyes roamed up and down Jongdae's torso before Jongdae raised an eyebrow and he seemed to remember himself. "Ready to enter the lion's den?" he teased, winking at Jongdae.

 

"Definitely," Jongdae answered, stepping up beside him. "You're my bait."

 

They spent the first several hours of the ball receiving congratulations from what felt like half the population of the kingdom. The circlet, which hadn't been heavy at first, was putting strain on his neck by the time they finished. Luhan looked to be in about the same shape.

 

"Is this going to be every night for three days?" Jongdae muttered to him after they'd sent off their latest well-wisher.

 

"Getting tired already?" It was Tao, emerging from the side and cutting off an older, military looking man who had been making his way towards them. Jongdae had never felt so glad to see him.

 

"Wine for their majesties," said a servant to Jongdae's left. He was holding a tray on which two ornate goblets were balanced, their contents a deep red.

 

 "Here," Tao said, plucking them on the tray and passing one to each of them. "You two should dance or something when you're done mingling. Hold on, I'll ask them to play something good." He practically bounded over to the musicians at the far side of the room.

 

Jongdae laughed, taking only a small sip of his wine. He didn't care much for reds, unfortunately. "He's enthusiastic, huh?"

 

Luhan shrugged good naturedly, drinking from his own cup with a satisfied look. "Tao loves this kind of thing. He has kind of gaudy taste to be honest, so anything with a lots of jewels and gold on display is going to be his favorite."

 

Jongdae snorted and turned to place his wine on the table to his left. He almost knocked into Sehun.

 

"Oh, hey!" he said, startled. "You alright there? You're like on top of me, Sehun."

 

Sehun looked nervous. "I'm trying to hide," he said lamely. "There's, um. There's a woman who's been looking me over all night, and--"

 

He was interrupted by a choking sound. Jongdae whirled around to see Luhan clutching his stomach. The goblet slipped from his hand, clanking against the lacquered floor.

 

"Luhan!" Jongdae grabbed at his shoulder, feeling Luhan slump against him, the strength going out of his limbs. His eyes were screwed up tightly in pain, breaths unsteady. Jongdae looked around desperately, feeling relief flood him at the sight of Yixing running at them from across the room.

 

"He's been poisoned," Yixing gasped when he skidded to a halt in front of them, feeling for Luhan's pulse. "I have some things that might help, but we have to get him out of here." He waved over the guards that were hesitating nearby. "Bring him to my quarters."

 

Jongdae let them take Luhan's limp body from him with some reluctance, unwilling to let go of him when he was in this shape. By now a hush had fallen over the crowd, everyone watching as Luhan was carried by his guards out of the room, Jongdae and Yixing following swiftly on their heels. Yixing went to work immediately once Luhan was laid out on a chaise in his quarters, pulling out a bottle of something milky white that he coaxed Luhan to drink from.

 

"Is he going to be okay?" Sehun asked from the doorway, looking afraid to even step inside the room. Tao hovered behind him, looking like he'd been crying.

 

"Yes," Yixing said, laying a wet cloth on Luhan's forehead. "I don't think he had enough for it to be life-threatening. He'll be sick for a bit though. Would you bring me a basin, Jongdae?" He gestured at the wall, where various medical supplies were arranged. Jongdae dutifully carried over a pan while Sehun and Tao exchanged anxious glances.

 

Luhan slowly improved enough that after the course of an hour he could sit up in the chaise lounge, although any sudden movements turned him green with nausea. Tao had brought a paste that he could wash his face with to remove the makeup he was wearing, but Luhan had refused it, too dizzy to go through the motions. Instead the black lining around his eye had started to flake off onto his cheek. Jongdae wanted to wipe it away, but Luhan had shied away when he'd reached for him earlier and he was hesitant to push Luhan's boundaries too much. He could tell why he was reacting this way, of course - if anyone had motivation to kill the crown prince, it was Jongdae. It was too much to ask that after knowing each other only for a few months that Luhan would trust him not to have some grandiose political scheme to sabotage his former enemies.

 

They sat with Luhan, the atmosphere slightly tense and mostly silent, until Kris entered the room. "Luhan," he said firmly, and Luhan looked up, his head swaying slightly. "You should go say something," Kris said, gesturing behind him. "People are already spreading rumors that you're dead or that the peace treaty is off. Cut it off before it gets off the ground."

 

"He can barely sit up," Jongdae snapped before he could think about it, not sure where this sudden surge of protectiveness had come from. "They can wait."

 

Kris's mouth set in a hard line. "The more we wait, the worse it'll be. A couple hours can make a big difference in politics. You should know that, _Your Highness_." Jongdae didn't miss the bite in his tone. Evidently Luhan wasn't the only one with mixed feelings on him at the moment.

 

"I'll go," mumbled Luhan, trying to swing his legs over the side of the chaise and almost falling over. "He's right... it'll be worse..."

 

"Hold on there," Yixing hurried over and steadied him. "Why don't we set you up in a chair that we can wheel in? I don't think you can stand on your own right now."

 

Luhan struggled for another minute or so before he seemed to concede. "Okay, okay. A chair." He leaned heavily against Yixing. "And maybe whoever poisoned me shipped off to the dungeon, that would be great."

 

The festivities were canceled while Luhan recovered. He was in good enough shape by the second night to be sent to the room he and Jongdae would be sharing now, significantly larger and more grandiose than Jongdae's previous quarters. It was uncomfortable. Yixing was in often, ostensibly to check on Luhan. but they stayed chatting until Jongdae got tired of pretending to write a letter to Minseok and just went to bed, blowing out the candle on his side of the room. Over the next few days the pattern repeated. There was always someone with Luhan, and he avoided speaking to Jongdae unless totally necessary. Kris, when he visited, gave Luhan some kind of news in a low voice that Jongdae couldn't hear. He understood, of course. If the situation had been reversed, he would have been suspicious too - but it was nearly unbearable to be isolated from the only people he'd been getting along with. After the third day in a row of this treatment Jongdae decided he'd had enough.

 

"We need to talk," he said flatly, after Tao had left their room. Luhan didn't turn around from where he was blowing out the candles on the wall.

 

"About what?"

 

"About this." Jongdae shook his head, frustrated. "You've been giving me the cold shoulder, and I get it, but I wasn't the one that tried to poison you. I want to figure that out just as badly as you."

 

Luhan turned to face him finally, looking pale against the gray fabric of sleeping clothes. "Maybe not you, but what about someone working for you?"

 

"Like who?" Jongdae waved a hand. "Sehun? That's the only person I know here. Most of the nobles aren't exactly out to make friends with me, if you hadn't noticed."

 

Luhan remained silent, his eyes narrowed. It looked like he was thinking, at least, which was a good sign.

 

"You don't have to trust me right away," Jongdae pleaded, his voice softening. "But give me a chance at least. This treaty means a lot to me. I want it to succeed."

 

Finally Luhan looked away and sat down, busying himself with his sleeping routine. "Alright, go ahead and prove it."

 

"What?"

 

Luhan looked back over at him, amusement peeking out of his expression. "Prove you're not trying to kill me. If I don't end up dead anytime soon I guess you're trustworthy."

 

Jongdae tipped his head back and laughed, relieved.

 

It was like night and day after that. Kris confessed that he had no solid leads on the would be assassin, but he was keeping his contacts ears' to the ground for any word. Yixing and Tao resumed their friendship with him, cautiously at first and then with growing confidence. Jongdae was grateful they were being reasonable. He wasn't sure if his own friends would have been as understanding. But they seemed to trust Luhan's judgment, and Luhan had obviously meant what he'd said. He kept a polite distance from Jongdae, but he'd started to joke with him again, the easy back and forth keeping Jongdae going through days where it seemed like everyone else in the kingdom was out to get him.

 

The only mystery that remained was who had actually tried.

 

\---

 

The winter passed slowly. Jongdae spent most of it indoors, playing a children's strategy game that involved about fifty pairs of dice with Yixing, or letting Tao dress him up in half of his wardrobe. Tao's fashion direction earned amused encouragement from Kris and dismay from Yixing and Luhan, so naturally Jongdae made sure to show off whatever dramatic ensemble Tao had dressed him in to both of them on a regular basis. He should have guessed that sooner or later Sehun would want in; the two of them, combined, were a force to be reckoned with. It was nice to have something to laugh about again and people to play around with. Sehun and Tao were like two spoiled little brothers, a thought that both comforted Jongdae and made him viciously miss Jongin.

  
  
At home, Jongdae would have been scolded for wasting his time like this, but with no real purpose at the Haiyang court besides supporting Luhan and representing his country, Jongdae had to find something to do or he would lose his mind. His language skills were improving at any rate. Tao and Sehun spoke informally with him, but Yixing and Kris always seemed willing to help him practice more formal language that Jongdae could use at state events. Luhan seemed to think he was getting better too.

  
  
"You haven't mixed up your verb tenses in a while," he mentioned casually, after Jongdae had just finished limping through an explanation of what Yixing had taught him about the medicinal herbs that grew in the palace gardens. Privately, Jongdae thought that verb tenses meant very little without the vocabulary to fill in the rest of the sentence, but it was nice to have a compliment.

 

"I've been practicing," Jongdae agreed, flipping through the book of names and portraits balanced on his lap. Under Luhan's guidance, he'd been carefully learning the ranking and political entanglements of members of the court. Most days, this was the only time Jongdae saw him at all. "How did you learn our language so well? You'd seem like you'd be short on practice partners."

 

"Show Luo," Luhan said, tapping one of the black and white portraits drawn in the book. "Close with Yixing. No love lost for me, but he'll support me if Yixing asks for it. And Tao's family has business dealings near the border, so he found me a tutor to start with. Afterwards there were translators and diplomats that worked in court that I could ask for help. Keep an eye on this one, she's much smarter than she acts. Terrible sense of humor, but it's worth it to laugh at her jokes."

 

Jongdae followed along obediently, but he wasn't taking much in. "Did you know you would be setting up a peace deal with us when you decided to learn?"

 

"I had it in mind. There are a lot of people here that don't approve of the war, and I needed their support. I think we're about done with this page, let's keep going."

 

A thought struck Jongdae suddenly, and ignoring the voice in the back of his head that said to keep his mouth shut, he asked, "Do you think all the political upheaval here helped to prolong the war? Because people cared more about securing power in the short term than changing things in the long term?"

 

Luhan looked up from the book. A long moment passed before he sat back on the couch. "You mean did it prolong the war more than your family's insistence on military force as a solution to any international conflict?" He asked flatly. His eyes had gone cold.

 

Jongdae straightened to match him, the book slipping off his lap unnoticed. "We don't rely on force! We just don't have the kind of magic you do, what else should we do?"

 

Luhan didn't look impressed. "You keep troops constantly stationed on the border. At the first sign of trouble you send more. The military is half of your economy! And the resources that keep it running are the other half. You don't know what to do with yourselves without war of some kind."

 

"We're a mountain kingdom," Jongdae insisted hotly. "The metal trade--"

 

Luhan's mouth set in a hard line. "Yes, it comes back to trade." He stood up abruptly, and Jongdae scrambled to his feet as well, frustratingly aware of the few inches Luhan had on him. "You know, Jongdae, sometimes I wonder if your people just started saying the border was god-touched to justify taking control of a vital port."

 

It felt like a slap in the face. To have to defend something so essential-- Jongdae swallowed hard. "You know NOTHING about my people," he said finally, voice dangerously low even to his own ears. "You think we would--"

 

Luhan didn't stay to hear the rest, however. He strode out of the room, not looking at Jongdae, and slammed the doors shut behind him. Jongdae stood staring after him. 

 

Luhan didn't come back to their rooms, even when it became late. Jongdae allowed the servants to help him change into night clothes, feeling like his mind was a million miles away. He already regretted fighting with Luhan, but on the other hand he didn't see how Luhan had any right to claim his religious leaders had lied to the people for economic motivations. Or worse, that Jongdae's own great-grandparents had lied. The unfortunate part was that it made sense. Their kingdom had rivers, but no large and easily accessible port like what could be found in the disputed zone. To have control of a port meant export of the kingdom's raw materials, the metals and precious stones and fuel that came from the mines.

 

He lay in bed that night thinking about it, unable to fall asleep. There were so many things they had been wrong about. The people of Haiyang were not cruel or ignorant, they were just like the common people he'd chatted with in the markets at home. Even the leadership here, while definitely backstabbing and conniving, wasn't so different from some of what Jongdae had seen at home.  

 

He sighed, flipping the pillow over and pressing his face into it. The cool fabric felt good against his cheeks, but it didn't bring him any closer to sleep. Sprawling out onto Luhan's side of the bed just made him feel guilty. He spent a good ten minutes staring at the moonlight filtering in through the window before he resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going to be getting any rest. With an effort Jongdae kicked the sheets off from where they'd tangled around his legs and pulled himself up, setting off in the direction of the writing table in the corner. He wished Minseok was with him. His brother always had good advice, and he was a sympathetic but honest listener.

 

 _Minseok_ , he wrote, tapping the pen so the ink would come out evenly. _I lost my temper today. If I'm saying that, you know it was a big deal, right?_

 

He'd calmed down by the time he got to the end of the letter, signing with a little drawing of a face. He felt relaxed enough that after folding up the letter and sliding it into an envelope to send out the next day, he was able to crawl back into bed and fall into a fitful sleep.

 

He woke up to the sound of Luhan rifling through their closet. The bed next to him was still cold; Luhan must have stayed out all night. Jongdae rolled over, blinking blearily at Luhan's back as he chose a set of grey robes. "I'm sorry," Jongdae offered, figuring it was best to just put it out there. He was met with silence. Luhan went about dressing himself, evidently not wanting to bother with servants. Jongdae was beginning to wonder if he was getting the silent treatment today when Luhan spoke up.

 

"Me too," he said shortly.

 

"I mean it," Jongdae insisted. "The border zone is going to be a sensitive topic for both of us, naturally. I shouldn't have pushed it."

 

Luhan finally looked at him. "It's okay," he said, his voice less harsh. "I'm sorry I insulted your religion. We don't take them so much to heart here. I didn't think about what that would mean to you."

 

Jongdae shrugged, sitting up. "It's okay. You might be right. Not every priest out there is a good, honest person." That stung a little to admit. "I still believe it's a sacred place, regardless. Some things you just have to take on faith."

 

Luhan nodded, apparently willing to concede on that point. "What's the occasion today?" Jongdae asked, gesturing at the outfit he'd just finished fastening.

 

"Oh." Luhan looked down at his clothes. "There's a dedication service for a memorial statue out on the grounds." He looked up at Jongdae, hesitating. "Do you want to come? It's bound to be boring, but I could use the company."

 

"Sure," Jongdae said, and smiled at him. "Just let me put on something. And if we could have coffee, that would be great."

 

It took a moment, but Luhan returned his smile. "Don't worry. I never skip coffee."

 

 

\---

 

The grounds of the palace covered several kilometers of land, the lawns groomed into whimsical gardens, carefully constructed labyrinths, wide pavilions littered with delicate benches where ladies sat twirling their parasols. Jongdae felt that even if he explored the palace and its surroundings for the rest of his life, he might never see it all. The flower beds were dusted in snow and lay brown and withered at this time of year, but Jongdae thought the miniature trees that were scattered in the gardens were beautiful when their branches were brushed with snowflakes. He wished there were a way to capturewhat they looked like other than in a painting. He'd never been much of an artist, and most of his acquaintances - perhaps friends, now - here at court were reluctant to come out with him and see the sight for themselves when the weather was so dismal.

 

That was where Luhan found him, wandering through a garden of miniature trees and bushes and wondering at their tiny branches. "Do you like them?" Luhan asked by way of greeting. "They were a gift from overseas, for the last king. They have to be trimmed and guided in a certain way." He took in Jongdae's bright expression and smiled, sweeping his hat off his head and holding it out. "Here, put this on. Your ears will freeze right off."

 

"Thanks," Jongdae said, accepting it. It was a little ridiculous, honestly. Most of it was fur, with two folded over flaps that stuck up at the sides. Luhan looked significantly less silly without it, but it did look warm at least. Jongdae pulled it on, tucking the flaps over his ears. Luhan beamed at him.

 

"Do you like walking out in this?" Luhan asked, smoothing down his hair. There was a section at the back that was sticking straight up from the static of the hat. Jongdae watched him miss it three times, amused. "I would have thought it would be a little cold for you, since your home is farther south. Is it refreshing?"

 

"It is cold," Jongdae agreed. "But the snow is really pretty. We almost never get this much at home."

 

"Well," said Luhan, offering his arm grandly. "Would you like to walk, then? I can take you around the grounds to my favorite spot."

 

Jongdae rolled his eyes, but he accepted Luhan's proffered arm. They set off along the edge of the gardens, heading farther into the palace grounds. Luhan turned his head to address his personal guard, waiting unobtrusively a few meters away. "My husband and I are going to take a walk," he said airily. "We'll be back soon."

 

"Was that a good idea?" Jongdae asked cautiously, once they were out of earshot. Given the cold weather and the snow piled up on the ground, they were totally alone. Luhan shrugged, looking unconcerned.

 

"There's more to worry about inside the palace than from anything out there." He tugged up his collar. "Although my toes might freeze off. If I end up toeless and ugly remember it's your fault."

 

"I meant--" Jongdae bit off the rest of the sentence, his shoulders drawing in uneasily. They turned to the right, following the curve of a stream lined in smooth pebbles.

 

Luhan looked wryly at him. "You mean is it a good idea to be alone with you? I'm not worried about you trying to kill me anymore, if that's what you mean. We might get some rumors floating around though." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

 

Jongdae shot him a look and dropped his arm. Luhan pouted at him. Jongdae laughed despite himself, shaking his head. It was hard to tell sometimes how seriously he should take Luhan. "Where are you bringing me?" He asked instead.

 

"Over here," Luhan answered, guiding him into a tall hedge maze. "I used to come here a lot when I was a kid. I think I still remember the way through it."

 

"You _think_?" Jongdae repeated, but he followed obediently, letting Luhan lead him through the corridors of carefully trimmed bushes. The path was less snowy here, protected from the wind by the high foliage, but somehow the hush that covered the ground outside was even more pronounced. He could hear Luhan's breaths, soft beside his own, and the crunch of their shoes on the earth. They were silent as they proceeded through, Luhan leading the way around the twists and turns of the maze. Finally he paused, looking back triumphantly at Jongdae.

 

"I knew I'd remember it right," he said, gesturing in front of him. "Look!"

 

In front of them was a small clearing, hexagonal in shape. A pool of water lay in the middle, surrounded by rocks. The surface was gently frosted over and covered in stray snowflakes. Beside it was a small stone bench, just wide enough for two people to sit, and a pole with a glass lantern hanging from the top.

 

"This is beautiful," Jongdae admitted. Luhan beamed at him.

 

"Here," he said, and raised his hand. Instantly the snow blew off of the bench and settled on the ground. Jongdae whistled.

 

The gesture was ruined somewhat by the reality of the season. "You couldn't have used your magic to warm it up while you were at it?" Jongdae grumbled as they gingerly seated themselves on the icy stone.

 

"It doesn't work like that," Luhan told him. "All I can do is move things." Jongdae jolted in surprise as felt himself slide closer to Luhan on the bench. "See?"

 

"What's with this all of a sudden?" He asked, but he allowed Luhan to press up against his side without complaint. It was pretty cold, even underneath the heavy coat he was wearing.

 

"I used to come here a lot as a kid," Luhan offered, after a few minutes where they sat watching the snow dusting across the surface of the pond. "I like being around people, but sometimes it's good to have your own space."

 

"I'm surprised your parents let you go wandering off on your own," Jongdae remarked. Luhan blinked at him.

 

"Oh, they aren't my parents," he answered. "And I think there was probably a guard with me, even if I didn't know it.”

 

"The king and queen?" Jongdae asked, confused. "They aren't your parents?"

 

"No, no." Luhan shook his head. "I figured someone would have told you already -- we don't do succession by birth here. If we did, you and I would be in trouble." He laughed. "Actually, the king and queen are Yixing's parents."

 

"Yixing?" Jongdae stared. "The Yixing I've met?"

 

"That's him!" Luhan agreed. "Sorry, I guess I should have explained it to you more clearly. Magical talent is everything here, you know that." He waited for Jongdae to nod. "So the ruler gets chosen by whomever's magic is strongest. Every twenty five years we do a search through the kingdom for children with particular magical talent, and they're brought to the palace. The weaker ones get adopted by the various noble families, and the strongest one is raised as the successor to the royal family." He shrugged. "That was me. I think my birth parents live in the countryside. Of course, sometimes talent gets passed down, so every now and then we get a prince or princess that was born to the royal family anyway. Yixing is pretty powerful, as it happens, even if his magic isn't an offensive talent. There a lot of people at court that would like to see him on the throne instead of me."

 

Jongdae struggled to make sense of this new information. Suddenly Lady Zhang's questions about what he thought of Yixing made much more sense. "So you just take people's kids away from them?" He asked, confused. "Do you just... switch out the magical kids for ones without magic?"

 

"Parents here at court can keep their children, of course, but they'll never rise very high in the ranks of anything if they don't have magical talent." Luhan waved his hand vaguely. "As for the poor parents, I think they're just happy their children will have a better life." He regarded Jongdae's troubled expression. "I know it seems cruel. But if you think about it, it's probably the tradition that's kept our kingdom together."

 

"How so?" Jongdae asked, frowning. There was no way he could envision being torn away from his parents, his brothers, and being happy with it.

 

"Think about it." Luhan answered easily. "If you had people in the countryside with all kinds of magic, what would stop them from overthrowing the government if they were unhappy with how the king or queen was running things? We'd be constantly in civil war. By bringing the people with talent to the capital, we can keep track of them and they become part of the leadership of the country. Then they're invested in keeping the status quo." He leaned against Jongdae a little. "I'm not saying it isn't harsh. But some things are necessary to keep peace. I'm sure there are similar problems your country has faced."

 

"There are," Jongdae agreed, remembering his history lessons. "Seems like it would cause a lot of heartache, though. Don't you ever get tired of it?"

 

"Yeah," said Luhan quietly. "I'm lucky there are some people here that are good, that aren't just worried about power. People I can trust."

 

Jongdae glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Luhan was looking heavily into the distance, past the tops of the bushes shielding the small center of the maze. He nudged his shoulder companionably into Luhan's. "So tell me more about baby Luhan," he teased. "Did he play with his imaginary friends here or what?"

 

Luhan brightened, the weight seeming to leave his shoulders. "Of course!" He laughed, and launched into a story about a time he and Yixing had gotten lost in the hallways of the palace and ended up in the servants' passages. Jongdae smiled at him, listening even as his thought chased themselves around in his head. He found himself wondering if he was one of those people, now, the ones Luhan felt he could trust.

 

 

\---

 

 

Tao and Sehun burst in on him one day while Jongdae was sprawled across the couch in his and Luhan's quarters with a book, struggling with the vocabulary. 

 

"You've been spending too much time by yourself," Tao announced, and Jongdae was proud that he could understand him perfectly well. "Come out with us."

 

"We're going to watch Kris drill his troops," Sehun added. "Tao says he likes to show off for the new ones."

 

Tao nodded sagely. "Luhan said he might come by too, if he has time." 

 

"He might not make it," Jongdae answered, giving up and making his place in his book. "He has a meeting with the minister of agriculture today."

 

Tao grimaced in sympathy. They made their way out to the practice yards, Tao and Sehun sharing bits of gossip with him. It was a clear day, the breeze carrying the first hints of spring. The yard had been cleared of any remaining snow to give the soldiers solid ground to work on. 

 

It was easy to tell who the new recruits were. They stood stiffly in a row, jumping whenever they were addressed. Kris was strolling in front of them, making some speech about the value of bravery and service. Jongdae, Sehun, and Tao leaned against the low wooden fence that separated the practice yard from the grounds and watched. 

 

It wasn't terribly exciting at first, and they chatted among themselves, only half keeping an eye on the field. Kris had the recruits run until their legs shook, then paired them off with more experienced soldiers to learn some simple blocking and parrying exercises with dull swords. Some of the recruits were having trouble just holding them up. Jongdae grinned as he watched them; he remembered being in their shoes only a few years ago when, like all the other young men his age, he'd spent a year training in the military. His brothers had all done the same, royalty or no, and Jongin had liked it so much he'd kept on with some of the duties. Maybe with the war ending, they wouldn't need to keep the same requirements - it would certainly help the families that struggled to feed themselves when their sons were away. 

 

"Oh, look at that," Tao said suddenly, leaning in. Jongdae and Sehun turned to follow where he was looking. Kris had taken over as one of the recruits' partners, showing her the proper stance for the move they were practicing. He went down the line, taking a few minutes to correct their posture or to deal a blow the recruits could dodge. When he finished with all of them, he called forward one of the more senior soldiers and they drew their blades. The match that ensued was lightning fast, Kris and his opponent trading blows as they whirled around each other. Jongdae whistled lowly, impressed. Kris could be pretty clumsy on occasion, but with a weapon in his hand he was in his element. 

 

The match went on until Kris twisted his opponent's sword out of his hand in a move so fast Jongdae almost missed it. The new troops cheered as Kris and his opponent bowed to one another. The three of them clapped along from the sidelines admiringly.

 

"It's not enough to be proficient with a sword," Kris told the recruits, effortlessly commanding. "Those of you with significant magical talent will find that knowing when and how to use your magic is just as important as being able to best an opponent in a duel."

 

"Here we go," Tao said excitedly to the two of them. "He's going to show them his magic. Just wait, I bet you've never seen anything like this. Kris's talent is really incredible."

 

Jongdae leaned forward eagerly as Kris stepped back from the recruits to demonstrate. Everyone seemed to be giving him a wide berth. Would he explode? Set fire to the grass around him? He'd never seen magic used as it would be in battle.

 

What happened next took him completely off guard. Instead of attacking or putting up a shield or anything else Jongdae had been expecting, Kris dropped to all fours, braced on his hands and knees like an animal. He looked ridiculous at first, his long limbs splayed out, but almost immediately he began to grow in size, his body elongating. His skin turned hard and brown, a tail sprouting from his spine and his neck stretching out as he changed into something unidentifiable.

 

And then, abruptly, it was obvious what he'd become, and Jongdae saw red.

 

He was up and over the fence before he'd even realized what he was doing, a wordless scream ripping itself from his throat. Kris - no, the _dragon_ \- swiveled its horned head to look at him. Jongdae felt like a lightning bolt had been shot through him; he couldn't move his legs fast enough. This, the monster that had destroyed his best friend's career, ruined his life, robbed him of his carefree youth, it was here and looking at him, had been here all along, and he--

 

Sehun was shouting something from behind him, but it felt far away. His vision was so focused on the dragon that when one of the privates jumped in front of him, arms spread out, Jongdae couldn't stop in time. He felt the both of them start to go down, and then suddenly he was on his feet half a meter away, Tao's arms gripping him.

 

"Jongdae! Calm down!" It was Tao's voice in his ear, all right, although he had no idea how Tao had gotten across the ground so quickly, or how he'd caught Jongdae. Magic, must be. Magic, like--

 

Jongdae looked around wildly. The private he'd bowled over was still on the ground, looking at him uncertainly. Kris was standing where the dragon had been, his eyes just as wide. "I," he started, faltered.

 

"Your Highness." It was Sehun's voice. Tao's grip on Jongdae slackened. "Maybe we should step inside for a bit?"

 

Thank the gods for Sehun. Jongdae nodded, feeling shaken, and let Sehun take his arm. "I'm sorry," he stammered, to Kris and the recruit, to both, anyone. With Sehun on one side to steady him and Tao trailing behind, he made an escape, feeling Kris's eyes following him the whole way.

 

 

Luhan found him later that night, sitting on the steps looking out over the gardens. Jongdae refused to look over when he sat down, concentrating instead on the lights from the lanterns scattered over the winding pathways. Luhan let him sit in silence for all of a minute before he cleared his throat.

 

"I talked to Kris," Luhan began. Jongdae ignored him.

 

"He told me what happened," Luhan continued mildly. "I think you'll be glad to know that the private you knocked over wasn't seriously hurt. He had a few minor cuts on his arm, but nothing that Yixing couldn't handle."

 

"That's good," Jongdae said.

 

"And Kris was very understanding about the whole thing, once he finally figured out what the problem was." He paused, waiting for Jongdae to respond. When nothing was forthcoming, he went on. "Kris sometimes needs a bit. He's got a pretty face but he wasn't winning any strategy awards, you know?" He forced out a quick laugh.

 

"Mm," said Jongdae.

 

"Jongdae," said Luhan softly. "You know it's not fair to blame me or Kris for what happened to your friend. That kind of thing happens in war. I've had people I care about get hurt too."

 

Jongdae refused to look at him. He could feel the heat of Luhan's arm from where it was not quite pressed up against his own. "I know," he said quietly. "It's just..." he shook his head, frustrated.

 

"I get it," said Luhan. Out of the corner of his eye Jongdae saw him turn to look out over the castle grounds, at the hundreds of flickering lanterns. "No one said this would be easy, right?"

 

 "Yeah," Jongdae said dully. He felt awful. It almost would have been better to have Luhan yell at him. "Is this going to cause problems? For your image?"

 

"Don't worry about me," Luhan dismissed breezily. "And actually, I think it might help, weirdly enough."

 

Jongdae frowned down at his knees. "How does trying to attack a military officer make me look good, exactly?"

 

"It humanizes you a little." Luhan shuffled a little closer, so their sides were pressed gently up against one another. Jongdae let him do it. "You're a pretty good hearted guy, you know. I think sometimes people are more mistrusting when someone seems too good to be true."

 

Jongdae shrugged. He wasn't feeling too great at the moment, no matter what Luhan had to say about it.

 

They sat quietly for a few minutes, and then Luhan said, "Hey, I never properly showed you my magic, did I? You've seen Kris's and Tao's by now, even Yixing's, sort of. I feel like I'm behind."

 

"You showed me a little," Jongdae answered mildly, letting himself lean against Luhan. It was still chilly out, and his side made a warm line against Jongdae's own.

 

"Not like this. Watch." Luhan raised one hand. At first, nothing seemed to happen. Jongdae had just turned to tease him when out of the corner of his eye he caught it: lights, gently rising into the air. The hundreds of lanterns dotting the gardens had started to rise into the air as one, gently winking and glittering in the night air. They rose slowly to just above eye level, spreading out over their heads like a new lawn of stars, casting a gentle glow over the grounds of the palace.

 

"Wow," Jongdae breathed. "That's... It's beautiful. Really incred..." He trailed off as he turned to Luhan, awestruck, only to find that Luhan's face was very close to his own.

 

"I'm glad you think so," Luhan whispered, so near that Jongdae could feel him breathing, only a hair's breadth away, and then there was no space between them at all. Luhan kissed like he did everything else, wholehearted, slow and soft at first and then searching, like he was determined to draw Jongdae out as thoroughly with the press of his lips as he was with his words.

 

When they parted, Jongdae stole a glance out over the lanterns, still held aloft. "You didn't drop any!" He exclaimed, smiling stupidly at Luhan. He felt light all over, like he could rise up right alongside the lights. "I don't know whether to be impressed or insulted."

 

"Be impressed," Luhan told him, pressing back up against Jongdae with a giddy laugh. "They might have wobbled a little. But," he gave Jongdae an over the top wink, "my control is just that good."

 

Jongdae laughed in his face, which didn't seem to dampen Luhan's spirits in the slightest, and rested his head on Luhan's shoulder, hiding his smile in the crook of his neck. Above them, the canopy of soft golden light shone on.

 

\---

 

Jongdae's brothers continued to send only generic letters to him, mostly about the daily goings on at the palace or news from his friends. Mixed in among them was a more serious missive, however. It was from his father, ostensibly. "Traveling," it read. "Will arrive in one week."

 

It was the first he'd heard of a visit by his family. No one at court seemed to have gotten the message, however. Jongdae waited for some announcement that royalty would be visiting, but he heard nothing until two days before the date his father was supposed to arrive. "There will be a diplomatic envoy arriving in two days time," the queen had announced, and that was it. Jongdae didn't know what to make of it all.

 

"It's possible she doesn't want to draw too much attention to it," Luhan suggested when Jongdae brought it up. "Do you know why he's coming?"

 

Jongdae hesitated. He'd written a strongly-worded letter to Minseok after the dragon incident with Kris, while he'd still been trying to cool down. But that alone wouldn't have been enough for his father to make the trip into what was only recently enemy territory. "No," he admitted. "I hadn't heard anything from him before this."

 

"Then maybe the queen asked him to come." Luhan looked troubled. "We just have to hope this isn't some way of trying to undo the treaty. It would win win her some points with the hawks among the nobility."

 

Jongdae shifted uncomfortably. This topic always bothered him, if only because he was aware that the peace treaty for Luhan wasn't just about doing the right thing but was also a matter of political manouevering.

 

"Anyway," Luhan interrupted his thoughts. "We'll just have to see what happens when he arrives. Be on your guard though."

 

The arrival of the carriage with southern colors flying was right on schedule. Instead of his father stepping out from the carriage, however, Jongdae watched as Joonmyun alighted from the steps.

 

"Welcome," the queen greeted him, which set off a predictable round of necessary pleasantries and introductions for Joonmyun that Jongdae desperately wished he could fast forward through. He was stuck watching the whole process, of course, waiting on the side with Luhan and Yixing. It felt like he hadn't seen Joonmyun in forever, although it had only been half a year since he'd left home. His brother looked tired but otherwise no different from how Jongdae had left him - same calm face, same practical fashion sense.

 

There was a formal dinner to endure before he'd be able to speak to Joonmyun privately, of course. It wasn't totally a waste, however. Jongdae's questions about the visit were addressed over the soup course, in typical Joonmyun fashion.

 

"You have all of our kingdom's thanks for allowing us this visit so soon after the peace treaty has been finalized," he said smoothly to the queen, holding a glass he wasn't drinking from.

 

"Of course," the queen answered, just as polished. "We understand your concerns, of course, after the unfortunate incident with Prince Luhan and Prince Jongdae's wedding." The way she said his name, with her lip everly so slightly curled, made Jongdae glower down at his spoon. Luhan's foot nudged his under the table, a show of solidarity Jongdae was grateful for.

 

The meal continued without another hitch, and Jongdae returned to studying his brother, trying to work out what he was thinking. Joonmyun was a good actor as well as a statesman; his manners were expectedly flawless and his expression pleasant but neutral. But it was that careful neutrality that gave Jongdae pause. Normally his brother had a smile or wink for him, even at serious ceremonies, something to keep Jongdae's mood light during stifling court business. They'd always been close. Jongdae prided himself on being able to read Joonmyun's mood no matter the circumstance, but today he was hitting a brick wall. The only tell was the way Joonmyun kept arranging and rearranging his napkin, perfectly polite but also a sign that he was having trouble sitting still.

 

He'd just about given up by the time they were able to leave the table. "We would be happy to show Prince Joonmyun to the guest rooms," Luhan said smoothly as they were all rising from their chairs.

 

"Thank you," Joonmyun said quickly, and followed along as Luhan and Jongdae took him instead to their chambers.

 

"Take as much time as you want," Luhan told the two of them at the threshold. "I'll be back later. You should have some time to talk privately." He kissed Jongdae's cheek, waving off his murmured thanks, and backed out of the sitting room area, shutting the double doors with a firm click.

 

Joonmyun remained just as unreadable after the door had closed behind Luhan. "You seem to be getting along well," he remarked, toneless.

 

Jongdae colored, thinking about only the other day when Yixing had walked in on him biting his way across the length of Luhan's collarbone. "Uh, yeah. He's not so bad, it turns out." He paused. "Can't really say the same for everyone here, obviously."

 

Joonmyun grunted in response, not looking at Jongdae. The impression of nervous energy Jongdae had gotten from him earlier had only intensified now that they were alone. He paced the length of the room anxiously, seeming not to take it in.

 

"Brother?" Jongdae asked hesitantly.

 

Joonmyun looked up sharply, seeming to have come to a decision. "Is there another entrance to this room?" He demanded.

 

Jongdae nodded. "The servants' passage, behind the bookshelf." 'Just like the one where I almost killed Luhan,' he added to himself. It didn't seem like the time to voice that particular thought.

 

Joonmyun was looking at him expectantly. "Alright," he said mildly, and led him to the correct bookshelf, springing open the latch on the side of the case so that the passageway was revealed. "Did you want to go get a snack from the kitchen? Because I promise they'll feed you here, it just might taste funky."

 

Joonmyun didn't appreciate his efforts to lighten the mood. He had on what Jongdae had always thought of as his 'older brother' look - quietly reproving, but not unkind. He stepped away from the bookcase, apparently satisfied that no one was waiting in the passageway. Jongdae clicked it closed and followed him through the room to the base of his bed.

 

"His Majesty is dead," Joonmyun said abruptly.

 

 It took Jongdae a second to register what he'd said. "What?"

 

"We were attacked on the road." Joonmyun's face was deadly serious. Jongdae felt his mouth grow dry. "Two of the guards were killed, and father was shot with an arrow in-- well, it was fast." He looked rattled, now, an abrupt change from his earlier cool demeanor. "I didn't know what to do. We were already across the border." He swallowed. "We buried him there, on the road. I know it's awful, but we couldn't bring his body the rest of the way."

 

"Why didn't you turn back?" Jongdae asked slowly. It felt surreal. His father, the king - dead? "Why did father even come, if there weren't enough guards, why did he--" the rest of the sentence stuck in his throat.

 

Joonmyun seemed to understand. "I thought if we were being attacked, you might be in real trouble," he admitted. "We heard about the poisoning already, it wasn't much of a stretch." He put his hand on Jongdae's knee, grounding him. Jongdae was glad they'd sat down."I think he knew something was off," Joonmyun offered, looking into the distance. "He was stubborn about that kind of thing, but usually right."

 

"He has good instincts," Jongdae agreed, examining his shoes. Had, came the hollow thought from somewhere in his chest. He had good instincts. He was still too shocked to feel any more, the revelation too raw.

 

"Well, obviously he was right," Joonmyun said, and seemed to draw himself together. It was his talent, always had been. He could put on a good face, Joonmyun. Jongdae let him do it, watched him become the knowledgeable older brother, and tried not to feel selfish for it. "If there's someone here capable of poisoning your husband and ordering a hit on father then it's a bigger problem than you or I can deal with on our own." He paused, deep in thought. "Do you trust Luhan?" he asked finally, turning to look at Jongdae critically.

 

That at least was easy to answer. "Yes," Jongdae said immediately. He didn't have to think about it.

 

Joonmyun nodded carefully. "Then I think you need to tell him about this and see if he can get any information out of his contacts here. I don't really want to leave you until we find out who's responsible, but I doubt the queen is going to let me hang around forever." He smiled wryly.

 

Even though he'd been honest when he told Joonmyun that Luhan would be on their side, it was hard to broach the subject. There was still something surreal about the realization that his father had died. He took a few days on his own to process it, talking things over with Joonmyun and sorting his thoughts out. When he finally broke the news, Luhan seemed as shocked as he'd been.

 

"I'll tell Kris," he said immediately. "He has contacts that can track... But are you doing alright? Do you need anything?" Jongdae could see the gears turning rapidly in his head.

 

He waved Luhan off, keeping himself forcibly composed. "No, just focus on figuring out who's responsible for now. I'll be okay."

 

He wasn't okay. Jongdae spent the rest of the week mostly keeping to himself, avoiding even Joonmyun's company without really knowing why. He passed an entire day at the center of the maze Luhan had taken him to, skipping stones on the water's surface and letting himself mourn where he was free to. It was vital that the members of court didn't catch wind of his father's death before they could corner the assassin, but it was incredibly difficult for Jongdae to keep his emotions compartmentalized around other people. Luhan had let him sob into his shoulder until he was breathless one night, which had helped with the grief, but not with the unsettled sense of wariness he'd developed about everyone around him.

 

That was where Jongdae found himself, sitting on the side of their bed and trying to summon the energy to change into night clothes while the thought of who could have seen the letter from his father ran around and around in his head. He'd only told Luhan and Sehun, unless someone had intercepted it and read it before it reached him.

 

Jongdae was distracted from his thoughts by the sound of Luhan's voice as he entered the room, blowing out all but one of the candles on the wall. "Jongdae? Hey."

 

He didn't move from the edge of the bed even as he felt the mattress sink beside him as Luhan sat down. His fingers found the hem of Jongdae's sleeping robes, tugging gently once, twice.

 

"You've been distracted," he said quietly. Jongdae could feel his eyes sweep over his face. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Luhan bite his lip. "Do you want me to call one of your priests to come to the palace, or a friend--"

 

He trailed off as Jongdae shook his head violently. He hadn't realized how tense he was, but looking down at his hands balled into fists on his knees, he became aware of the tight curve of his own spine. Luhan's hand remained neutral, resting at the edge of his sleeve. The indecisiveness of it, the careful space Luhan was making a point of leaving him pissed him off, suddenly. He wanted something definitive, an answer to the questions dogging him.

 

"I don't know who I can trust," he admitted finally, still not meeting Luhan's gaze. "I'm tired of second-guessing everyone."

 

Luhan abandoned his sleeve, his hand closing firmly around Jongdae's wrist. Jongdae turned to look at him, startled, only to find Luhan staring at him with an unreadable look in his eyes. "So trust me," he said quietly.

 

Jongdae expected him to go on, to try and persuade him, or maybe to throw out some ridiculous line, but there was nothing but Luhan's steady breathing, his eyes searching Jongdae's.

 

It was something about that look. The dam holding in all of Jongdae's anxieties and misgivings finally broke. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd twisted around and pulled Luhan in by his shoulder, watching surprise bloom across his face as Jongdae pressed his lips against his. Luhan caught up quickly, settling his hand on Jongdae's waist and pulling at Jongdae's bottom lip with his teeth.

 

He was already leaning half off the side of the bed to kiss Luhan, and Jongdae happened to pride himself on not doing anything halfway. Luhan looked startled when Jongdae slung his leg over Luhan's hips and straddled his lap, but he was quick to grab Jongdae's thighs and steady him.

 

It was a good thing they had reliable guards, Jongdae reflected. It would be the wrong time for some courtier to come looking for a favor from the prince and his consort. Luhan's expression at the moment was anything but noble, his tongue darting out at the corner of his mouth while he kneaded gently at Jongdae's muscles. His thumb stroked experimentally at the inside of Jongdae's thigh and Jongdae shivered despite himself. It was a relief to drape himself over Luhan, his hands braced on Luhan's shoulders and his thighs tensed around his waist. There was more they should be saying to one another, probably, but as their lips met again in another hurried kiss, Jongdae couldn't bring himself to care. 

 

He let himself settle more heavily onto Luhan's lap, his knees sliding forward on the bed and his ass pressing onto Luhan's thighs. All the air seemed to leave Luhan's lungs at the movement; his breath came hot and quick onto Jongdae's cheek from where his head had come to rest against Jongdae's temple. Jongdae wasn't in much of a better state himself. When he felt a hand slide up to curl around his ass and pull him in more tightly, he swore under his breath and licked his way into Luhan's mouth.

 

Luhan rocked up against him, once, twice, and Jongdae gasped into his mouth, his own hips grinding down in answer. He pulled back as Luhan snuck his hands underneath his robes to feel up the length of Jongdae's sides, his thumbs brushing hard at the bones of his hips. When Jongdae made eye contact, he raised his eyebrows pointedly, slowly licking his lips. He looked ridiculous. Jongdae set himself to the task of biting away any evidence of Luhan's attempt at flirtation. 

 

Luhan seemed to be struggling to slide Jongdae's robes off in between kisses, his lips turning red from the abuse of Jongdae's teeth. Whether the little noises he was making were because he was turned on or because he was frustrated, Jongdae didn't know, but he was enjoying them. He was perfectly happy to leave Luhan to it, biting his way down his neck instead with one hand tangled up in Luhan's hair, until his path was rudely interrupted by his collar. That had to go. Jongdae wrestled with the fastenings on the front of Luhan's clothes, pulling them open and immediately continuing his path down the length of Luhan's chest. When he stopped for breath Luhan took the opportunity to push Jongdae's robes off his shoulders and onto the ground. Their erections were pressing up against one another now with only a thin barrier between them. He shivered.

 

"Is there--" Jongdae bit out, palming himself once roughly through his underclothes and tearing his hand away with an effort. Luhan was a sight, his hair messy from where Jongdae had tugged at it and his face flushed. He hurriedly waved at the bedside.

 

"Look underneath the bed, there--"

 

That proved to be a less than helpful instruction. But after several minutes of shuffling around on his knees and biting down curses, Jongdae emerged triumphant with a small bottle, minus the rest of his clothing. "Massage oil," he read, and raised an eyebrow at Luhan. "So how long has that been lying around?"

 

Luhan looked suddenly guilty. "Well... every night since we were married, they bring it in when they change the sheets-- it's not strange," he added defensively, when Jongdae's brow traveled further up his forehead. "We _are_ married, if you were a woman people would be asking us when we're expecting.”

 

"And instead all they get is the evidence that their prince is living a sad life of celibacy," Jongdae joked, climbing back up onto the mattress. Luhan suddenly wouldn't look him in the eye. When he didn't retort, Jongdae did a double take, staring at him. "Really?!"

 

"No, no, no," Luhan rushed, waving his hands. "Not like that, but--" He looked embarrassed.

 

"You mean you've been using it to jerk off," Jongdae guessed, and snorted when Luhan nodded, his ears turning red. "Ha! And here I thought you always took forever in the bath because you were fussing over your looks." He started working the stopper out of the bottle. "I bet the servants already have bets placed on which one of us is taking it."

 

Luhan grinned. "Well, I hope if they're betting that I come out on top."

 

Jongdae stopped what he was doing and gave Luhan a look, one that he hoped conveyed, 'if you make another stupid joke like that I'm leaving and you can return to your usual routine'. Luhan looked totally unbothered. Jongdae sighed heavily at him, then sighed again when he finally got the bottle open, looking down sadly at where his dick had wilted. It felt good to joke around, comfortable. On the other hand, it hadn't done his erection any good. He jumped when the bottle was plucked neatly out of his hands. Luhan waved it in front of him, his smirk landing just on this side of sleazy. "I can help with that," he assured Jongdae. "Lie down."

 

That startled a laugh out of Jongdae. He flopped himself down on top of the pillows at the head of the bed and Luhan crawled between his splayed legs, pouring a little of the oil onto his hand and popping the stopper back in. Jongdae expected Luhan to pounce, but instead he sat back on his haunches, his knees nudging against Jongdae's, and reached down to slick up his own cock. _Oh_ , went Jongdae's brain, and then, _OH,_ as Luhan bit his lip, his eyes closing as he worked himself over with quick jerks of his wrist. Jongdae reached down to palm himself, his eyes darting from where the head of Luhan's cock was pushing past the tight ring of his fingers to his open mouth, spit glistening on his lips. 

 

"Hey," he rasped, and tried again. "Hey, come here." Luhan's eyes fluttered open with an effort. The flush on his cheeks spread down his chest, heaving as though he'd just run a mile. Jongdae licked his lips unconsciously.

 

"Up," he insisted, gesturing for Luhan to come closer. Luhan shuffled his way up Jongdae's body, straddling his waist, and graced him with a series of messy open mouthed kisses. It was satisfying, but not what Jongdae had in mind for his mouth. He'd never done anything like that with a man before, but the thought alone was getting him painfully hard. "Come up higher," he requested when Luhan paused for breath. He patted Luhan's thigh encouragingly, settling himself lower on the pillows propping his head up.

 

Luhan looked confused for a moment, but he eventually got the idea, his face lighting up like he'd been struck with a bolt of lightning. With his hips up around Jongdae's shoulders, his knees pressed on either side of Jongdae's pillow, he was the perfect level for Jongdae to lick his way up his cock, greedily sucking the head into his mouth. Luhan swore and jerked his hips. Jongdae swallowed around him, hearing Luhan groan above him. That was encouragement enough to snake his hands up, pushing on Luhan's thighs to get more of his cock inside his mouth. Luhan was happy to help, jerking into Jongdae's mouth in quick, aborted little thrusts from where he was slumped over, one hand propping himself up on the headboard and the other tangled in Jongdae's hair. He was feverishly muttering what Jongdae assumed was dirty talk - he'd have to get Luhan to help him learn.

 

Luhan's legs had started to shake. "Jongdae," he managed to get out, tugging gently on Jongdae's hair as if to pull him off. Jongdae smiled viciously around the hot length in his mouth and slid off just enough to suck at the head, tasting bitter pre-cum when he licked at the slit. Immediately Luhan's fingers twisted tighter in his hair, and he made a _sound_ , almost a whimper, and yes, Jongdae needed to hear that again, immediately. He pulled Luhan's hips back in, sucking hard, and Luhan came with a muffled cry. Jongdae sputtered on the sudden mouthful of come, unprepared. Luhan slid down his body, boneless, while he took care of it.

 

"Wow," said Luhan after a moment, his face pressed against Jongdae's sternum. "I wasn't expecting that."

 

Jongdae laughed, smoothing his hair back. "In a good way or a bad way?"

 

Luhan looked up at him hazily. "A good way. Definitely a good way." He shifted, his thigh bumping against Jongdae's still-hard cock. "Oh! Here, let me take care of that." It was the fastest change of expression Jongdae had ever seen, dazed to devious in two seconds flat.

 

"Are you sure...?" Jongdae ventured as Luhan slithered down his body to cup his balls. "Oh, fuck-- I mean, I can just--"

 

"Shh," Luhan instructed, and then without any warning swallowed him down.

 

Jongdae's whole body jerked forward, his heels digging into the mattress and a yelp flying out of his throat. Luhan hummed around him, his arm keeping Jongdae's hips more or less pinned down as he bobbed his head further onto Jongdae's shaft. Between the steady suction of his mouth and the hand gently rubbing at his balls, he was embarrassingly close already. He didn't even realize he was making noise until Luhan did something wicked with his tongue and the volume of his moans ratcheted up. What finally pushed him over the edge was Luhan's hand venturing down from his balls to stroke teasingly over his hole, the faint pressure of his thumb over the muscle making Jongdae's legs lock up. He came with a shout, Luhan pulling off just in time.

 

They lay still for a few minutes, gasping for breath, before Luhan slid off the bed and returned with a face cloth that he cleaned the both of them off with. Jongdae watched him tiredly, feeling too drained to move.

 

"I knew you'd be loud," Luhan remarked, tossing the cloth to the side after he'd finished and collapsing onto the mattress. He sounded weirdly satisfied.

 

"Oh?" Jongdae teased, propping himself up with his elbow to look at Luhan. "That's a turn on for you?"

 

"Hmmm," Luhan made a noncommittal noise. "Just nice to hear appreciation."

 

Jongdae let himself fall back on the bed, huffing out a laugh. He really was ridiculous.

 

There was silence for a few minutes while they both drifted in and out of consciousness. Now that he'd cooled down, though, it was too chilly in the room to be naked and by himself. Jongdae shuffled himself over to Luhan with an effort, curling towards his body. He wasn't prepared for the immediate response, Luhan wrapping his arms and legs fully around Jongdae like a koala and snuggling up to him until Jongdae's head was neatly tucked under his chin. Jongdae let himself be cradled, breathing in the smell of Luhan's sweat and feeling content, even if only for the moment.

 

\---

 

Jongdae was desperately afraid to send his brother away before they'd resolved the question of who had ordered the hit on the king, but there came a point where he really couldn't stay any longer without it becoming obvious what was going on. The goodbye was a tense one, Jongdae holding on to Joonmyun's arm until he had to step away and let Joonmyun approach the carriage that would take him back across the border. Luhan silently took his hand instead, squeezing comfortingly.

 

"We'll send word if there's any news," Luhan told Joonmyun.

 

"I have some of my best men and women on it," Kris said seriously. Joonmyun nodded.

 

"Messengers should be able to find me on the road." He assured them. "So please don't wait for me to return if anything happens. In the meantime, we'll be taking the back roads. I'll keep you updated. Try not to worry too much," the last directed at Jongdae. Jongdae frowned at him. If the situations were reversed, of course, he doubted Joonmyun would have let him leave.

 

"We'll be alright," Luhan assured him instead, and Joonmyun's expression softened.

 

Jongdae watched his carriage pull away and exit through the gates, feeling mixed waves of emotions rising and cresting inside him. When the wheels had disappeared from sight, he let Luhan pull him inside the palace. He listened with only half an ear to Luhan and Kris discussing the next step in their plan to catch the assassin, his head full of thoughts and heart full of worries.

 

As it turned out, Kris's instincts were good. They were woken late that night by a knock at the door. It was Kris, grim-faced, with a piece of paper in hand. "Update on our investigation, Your Highnesses," he said when Luhan and Jongdae had hauled themselves out of bed. "You're not going to like it."

  


They didn't like it.

 

"What the hell were you thinking," Luhan snarled at Sehun and Tao, cowering on the floor of Tao's room. Kris leaned against the door, glaring. "Were you actually trying to kill me? Is that what you want? I trusted you!"

 

"It wasn't supposed to be anything serious," Sehun said miserably. He looked ready to cry. Jongdae had never felt less sympathetic.

 

Tao _was_ crying. "We didn't mean to hurt you!" He said, sniffing desperately. "We just didn't want the peace treaty to happen, and we thought--"

 

"We thought if we just scared you and made everyone too worried to go through with it, then Jongdae and I would go home and the whole thing would be over," Sehun continued. Tao nodded frantically.

 

"And my father?" Jongdae asked, his voice flat. He felt cold and hot all over, and vaguely like his stomach was trying to turn itself inside out. "Did you have so little regard for his life that you--"

 

"That wasn't us!" Sehun burst out. He looked miserably at Jongdae, his brows drawn together. "I swear, we didn't do that."

 

"We didn't," Tao agreed. "The queen said no one would really get hurt, even the poison was just--"

 

"Hold on," Kris cut in. "What about the queen?"

 

Tao and Sehun looked at each other. Finally Tao cleared his throat. "She suggested there might be a way to call off the treaty." He looked uneasily between Luhan and Jongdae. "It's just that the border zone is where my family does most of our business, and if the war ends--"

 

"Stop," Luhan said calmly, and instantly Tao went silent. He looked up at them pleadingly. "So the queen gave you the idea," Luhan began. Sehun and Tao nodded. "And the poison?"

 

"From her lady in waiting," Sehun said uncertainly.

 

"She said it wasn't strong enough to kill," Tao added, sounding subdued.

 

"But the assassination wasn't you." Luhan finished. He sounded skeptical. Jongdae felt like he was watching the exchange from a million miles away.

 

"It wasn't," Tao insisted. "I promise."

 

"Why should I believe you?"

 

Tao faltered. "Because I'm your friend," he whispered, shutting his eyes tightly. His shoulders shook.

 

There was a long silence. Luhan stared for so long Jongdae had to turn away. Kris gave his shoulder a comforting pat.

 

"...Okay." Luhan said finally. "Okay, I believe you."

 

There was an audible sigh of relief from Tao and Sehun.

 

"That doesn't mean everything is fine." Luhan added. "Trying to poison your prince is treason, in case you two forgot about that." Jongdae turned back to see Tao and Sehun huddled together, looking frightened again. "And you've put us in a tough spot too," Luhan continued. "If we don't say anything about what we know, we're part of a conspiracy. But if I expose you two, I can guarantee you'll be put to death."

 

Sehun drew in a sharp breath. Tao stared at Luhan as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

 

"The best thing will be for you to be banished, and as soon as possible. You might be able to seek asylum to the South," Luhan sighed. "But I can't order that as a prince. I'll have to challenge the queen for the throne."

 

"That sounds like something you shouldn't rush," Jongdae said. It took an effort to speak.

 

Luhan smiled tiredly at him. "It's something I've been thinking about doing soon anyway," he said. "And honestly, if she could have your father assassinated, I think it's more dangerous not to try it. I don't want to find out what her next move is."

 

\---

 

"Are you sure about this?" Kris asked, for at least the third time.

 

"Yes."

 

"And you know if you lose, you don't get a second shot."

 

"Yes."

 

"And you and Jongdae and Sehun and Tao will all end up being put to death."

 

Luhan rounded on Kris, his eyes flashing. "Why are you being like this? You know I know! Just support me!"

 

Kris wilted somewhat in the face of Luhan's vitriol. "Uh, yeah, but I'm trying to keep things in perspective." He trailed off, looking uncomfortable. "Just don't get hurt, okay?"

 

Luhan's expression softened a little, but he still looked frustrated. Jongdae hopped in between them. "So how does this battle work?" he asked, mostly to distract Luhan.

 

It seemed to work. "It's exactly what it sounds like. Entirely magical, no physical force allowed, and we go until someone is incapacitated, gives up, or dies."

 

Luhan seemed calm on the surface, but he speaking very quickly. Jongdae rubbed his arm comfortingly. "So what kind of magic does the queen have?"

 

"Electricity," Luhan answered shortly, looking down. Jongdae blinked.

 

"I have exactly what you need then!" Luhan looked up at his bright expression, bewildered.

 

"Yeah?"

 

Jongdae fished under his robes for the pendant he'd carried with him since he left home, the one Kyungsoo had blessed for him. He pulled it off his own neck and draped it instead over Luhan's, holding up the charm so he could see.

 

"That's the mark of my patron, the god of storms," he told Luhan, letting the pendant rest against Luhan's heart. "It's been blessed by a good friend of mine, to keep me protected - but I think it's exactly what you need right now." Luhan ran a finger over the edge of the charm, his expression tender. On impulse Jongdae leaned in and kissed him. "You can do this," he said confidently, watching a small, private smile bloom on Luhan's face.

 

"Thank you," Luhan whispered. There was something raw in his expression that made Jongdae's heart leap into his throat. "Jongdae, I wanted to tell you..." he trailed off, searching for words.

 

"Nope!" Jongdae interrupted. "Whatever it is, you can tell me after you win."

 

Luhan looked like he wanted to argue with that, but when he leaned in to say something, or maybe to kiss Jongdae again, Kris cleared his throat loudly.

 

"Anyway," Luhan recovered, stepping back. "You should get to a safe distance before we start. When..." he paused, and touched the pendant on his chest. "When I win, I'll let you know what it was." Jongdae nodded firmly, and he turned to face Kris.

 

"Bring him upstairs, Kris," Luhan instructed, ushering Jongdae forward. Kris nodded seriously. Jongdae couldn't just let that one go.

 

"Yes Kris, bring me upstairs," he said sarcastically. "But do mind that I don't trip myself on the steps, you know how I get."

 

He was being a bit of a brat and he knew it, but when he turned to look back, Luhan's expression held only fondness. "Wish me luck," he said, his eyes bright with something unreadable. Jongdae swallowed firmly and schooled his expression into seriousness.

 

"Kick her ass," he said solemnly, and was rewarded with a broad smile from Luhan as Kris pulled him away to head up to the balcony overlooking the room. Apparently word had spread that Luhan intended to challenge the queen for the throne. People were already beginning to gather around the railings, watching the proceedings. Jongdae slipped away from Kris when he spotted Yixing, sliding in next to him and leaning against the bannister.

 

"Hey," Jongdae greeted. Yixing barely glanced at him before his eyes were glued back on the room below, where Luhan and the queen seemed to conducting some formal exchange. Jongdae frowned. It wasn't like Yixing to be standoffish, although he could be very serious at times. He settled in next to him, watching as the two opponents took up spots on either side of the room from one another. Yixing looked back and forth between them, his knuckles white on the railing, and suddenly Jongdae realized what the problem was.

 

"You okay?" He asked softly, nudging Yixing gently with his elbow. He got a sigh in return.

 

"It's for the best that Luhan wins," Yixing murmured, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than answering Jongdae. Jongdae let it go.

 

The match started as though a gun had gone off, both combatants instantly whirling around and throwing blows at one another. There were flashes of white hot light from the queen, while Luhan hurled objects from the room: chairs, candlesticks, the hat off a lady's head. It was vicious, the both of them attacking and defending almost more rapidly than Jongdae could keep track of. It reminded him of Kris and the soldier, weeks before; the same practiced precision, carefully timing, and unbridled ferocity.

 

"Just out of curiosity, but how would this have gone down if you were the one challenging?" Jongdae asked him, mostly to distract himself from the way Luhan was barely deflecting most of the flashes of electricity striking at him. They'd been at it for what had to be at least thirty minutes and still neither side showed any sign of tiring.

 

"I would have asked him to represent me," Yixing replied dully. His expression was pained. Jongdae worried at a thread on his sleeve, wracking his brain for something to say that might help the situation, but he was distracted by a loud bang from below them.

 

The queen had finally gotten in a solid hit on Luhan. His left leg was exposed, the fabric above it charred. The skin of his leg was badly burned, and he instantly turned his body to keep it behind him, still quick on his feet despite the injury. They resumed their circling dance, pushing one another back and forth across the floor by advances and retreats.

 

Even with one leg out, Luhan was still a force to be reckoned with. With a fierce motion of his hand, he pulled an enormous pair of wooden sconces from where they rested on either side of the main doors and tossed them at the queen. One of them exploded harmlessly into thousands of pieces around her, the other slammed into her small frame and seemed to knock the wind out of her.

 

"Those looked old," Jongdae commented, trying to keep the mood light. "Is he allowed to do that?"

 

"Seems like it," Yixing answered shortly, apparently not interested in chatting.

 

Jongdae could see why. Luhan was beginning to slow down; the pain of his leg injury must have been catching up to him. He was favoring his left side, keeping his right arm ahead of him and hurling objects with steadily diminishing force. The queen didn't seem to be in much better shape, fortunately; the flashes of electricity emanating from her were less frequent, more defensive than aggressive. The two circled one another like prize fighters in a ring, parrying one another's blows. Jongdae found himself chewing anxiously on his lip as he watched, trying to stop himself from running his mouth.

 

"You can't help him?" He finally had to ask, after the fourth time he saw Luhan wince after putting too much weight on his leg. Yixing looked grim.

 

"He'd be disqualified," he said softly, watching Luhan throw a end table and all its decorative contents at the queen's head. He was running out of easy to throw objects, judging by the state of the room. 

 

"He needs to end it soon," Yixing remarked, as they watched Luhan taking stock. He was obviously thinking the same thing, running his eyes over the lower half of the room as he dodged blows.

 

Jongdae saw the moment it clicked. The queen had thrown a bolt that went wide, arcing over Luhan's shoulder and taking out part of the floorboards on the second level. Luhan's eyes widened, scanning the second floor where the nobles that were spectating were gathered. His eyes met Jongdae's just for a second, but it was enough. When Luhan turned back to the queen it was with renewed ferocity. He launched an assault with the frames of paintings, doorknobs, whatever was available, backing the queen up to the side of the room nearest to where Jongdae and Yixing looked on. They were approaching the long rugs that lined the edges of the room, arranged in a vague hexagon. The second the queen stepped back onto the carpet, Luhan sprang. With a jerk of his hand he bunched up the carpet behind her and she stumbled onto her back, arms up and throwing lightning wildly. The rug wrapped itself tightly around her, tangling her limbs.

 

In what seemed like only an instant, Luhan was looking back up at Jongdae. It was all the prompting he needed. Jongdae grabbed Yixing and pulled him back at the same time as Luhan ripped the railing right off the walkway in front of them and sent it careening it down. The arms of the railing slammed into the floor on either side of the queen, trapping her arms tightly against her body.

 

For the span of a breath, no one moved. Luhan was panting hard below, sweat gathering on his forehead like he'd run a marathon. Then an unfamiliar voice broke the hush that had fallen over them.

 

"Your King!" It was the queen's husband, the former king, now. He swept an arm out grandly to Luhan and the sudden flutter of fabric filled the air as the nobles around Jongdae sank to their knees as one. Jongdae hesitated, unsure if he should follow suit.

 

Luhan was looking up at him. "Ready to hear it?" He mouthed, and his smile lit up his face. Jongdae returned it.

 

"Yes," he said aloud, even as the people around him rose and began to make their way down the stairs to congratulate Luhan. The former queen was being helped out of her wooden prison by several guards. Jongdae followed the flood of nobles, his gaze fixed on Luhan, flushed with victory, Jongdae's pendant still proudly around his neck, his eyes never straying from Jongdae's own.

He didn't need to hear Luhan say it, really. Jongdae was sure he already knew.

 


End file.
